


anthropotheism

by penhaligon



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: GAIA's Subordinate Functions, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 133,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penhaligon/pseuds/penhaligon
Summary: Aloy can't figure out what her relationship with solitude is, whether she craves it or abhors it or both, but walking alone under the weight of the old world, she decides, is not preferable.





	1. Chapter 1

 

**[PLAYLIST](https://playmoss.com/en/penhaligon/playlist/anthropotheism) **

* * *

**2064-DC-04 18:35 – AUDIO RECORDING**

**Margo Shĕn:** Dr. So- uh, Lis?

 **Elisabet Sobeck:** What is it, Margo?

 **Margo Shĕn:**  Uh... I was just thinking, you know, about GAIA and HEPHAESTUS and the rest. I know there's not enough time to work on other AIs, I get that, but... won't GAIA get lonely, by herself?

 **Elisabet Sobeck:** [sigh]

 **Margo Shĕn:** It just seems unfair to her. If we had more time to safely implement cognition in the sub-functions...

 **Elisabet Sobeck:** I know. I feel shitty about it, believe me. [sigh] But you know our... successors will be able to interact with GAIA after they complete the APOLLO program. So she'll have people to talk to again, one day.

 **Margo Shĕn:** That's a long time to be alone.

* * *

The sun is half-sunk below the western horizon, its curve just visible over distant hills, and it casts its last grasp over the land, dying rays stretching like fingers over dusty ground. The soft pink and tan and yellow of the land and the air bleed into shades of red as daylight dwindles, and Aloy stands with her back to the west, to the ranch, looking out the way she came.

The Forbidden West is quiet, this far in. No more voices echo in Aloy's ear, crossing a millennium. All she hears is the wind, an endless low whistle that persists in the distance even when the air around her is still. It calls up dust, which floats and dances just as ceaselessly as the wind, etching fleeting ghosts into the air, red-hued by sunset light. It's the only movement, the only color, no matter which way Aloy looks.

It's almost a disappointment. Almost. From wild Carja tales, she'd been expecting _something_ out here.

Two solitary points of blue emanate from the strider's vertical eyes, the only dissonance to break up the monotony of red. Even the strider's silver-black sides are stained with light, and Aloy gives it a pat before she looks back, though she'd promised herself that she wouldn't. The dying sunlight can't quite take the green out of the trees and ferns and grasses of the ranch. GAIA's work, she thinks again, keeping green life alive out here in such a dry, dusty place, and it's still here, clinging tenaciously to existence, even without her. A welcome sight it had been, after the dryness of the western Sundom and the eastern edge of the Forbidden West, and she drinks it in again.

She clutches the globe tightly in her left hand as she does, fighting every urge she has to walk back just a few feet. To place Elisabet's body in her sight again.

Aloy doesn't know how long it would take to tear herself away this time, so she keeps herself rooted to the ground instead and contents herself with watching the way a stray breeze stirs the grasses. She should get moving. She's not tired enough for sleep, and she doesn't know if she can bear sleeping here, anyway. But she watches the ferns sway, and she doesn't move.

Where does she go next?

She'd spent some time in Meridian, helping with the recovery effort there, and then she'd returned to the Sacred Land for the same reason, before making the long trek here. Recovery for both the Carja and the Nora will take much longer than that. A few months, at least, before life settles back into its daily patterns uninterrupted, and even longer before the scars in land and lives fade, if at all. But they don't need her for that. One more person won't make that much of a difference, there.

Out here, however, with GAIA's last words still ringing in her ears... out here is where there is still work for her to do.

_"While this admittedly desperate course of action will avert the immediate crisis, the fate of life on Earth will remain in peril."_

Aloy listens to it again – not because she needs to, when she has every word memorized, but because the silence is starting to unnerve her. Birds with men's voices and impossibly shaped machines, she'd once read, but there is nothing out here. Nothing but dust and wind and faded triangular carvings left behind in the rocks by people she has seen no sign of otherwise.

The strider moves suddenly, pushing a little closer to Aloy. Startled, she reaches out reflexively and finds herself patting its side, sinking back into thought.

_"With no central governing intelligence to regulate the terraforming system, it will continue operations for some time, but in an increasingly chaotic manner, and eventually, it will break down."_

Maybe she just hasn't gone far enough to see what the Carja claim is out here. But there is no reason to go further into the Forbidden West, not when such urgency still lies behind her.

_"Likewise your gene print will allow you to enter other facilities, and over time, harness their technologies to rebuild the system core and reboot GAIA."_

The Cauldrons would serve that purpose, Sylens had said. But therein lies the problem alongside the solution.

> _///_  
>  _[summary]_  
>  _active: Countermeasure/Diagnostic/wurm.nxt_  
>  _alert: Trace/Intrusion/Detect:Successful_  
>  _alert: Trace Result: HEPHAESTUS_  
>  _alert: Infiltrate/Intrusion/Retrieval:Successful_  
>  _alert: Command Template Acquired_  
>  _alert: Decode/Initiate:Successful_  
>  _alert: Result: ENCROACHMENT THREAT: HUMAN_  
>  _alert: Result: FAUNA THREAT: HIGH_  
>  _alert: Result: FLORA THREAT: HIGH_  
>  _alert: Result: BIOSPHERE THREAT: HIGH_  
>  _alert: Result: DIRECTIVE: CULL_  
>  _alert: Result: PRODUCTION OVERRIDE INITIATED_  
>  _alert: Result: ALL OTHER PRIORITIES RESCINDED_  
>  _alert: Decode/End_  
>  _///_

It's all that Aloy really has to go on, but it's enough. GAIA had been fragmented, her subordinate functions awakened and scattered. HADES had set to fulfilling his protocol as soon as he was able to. And HEPHAESTUS, it seems, had set to changing the machines. To bringing about the Derangement. If Aloy tries to use the Cauldrons to restore GAIA, she doesn't know how far she'll get before HEPHAESTUS tries to stop her. If she needs its help, she's even less certain of how to get it.

Overriding the Cauldrons had been a battle and a puzzle, helped along by her intuition and her Focus. But override to shut down, to gain information and a bit of code, is a far cry from override to utilize. She doesn't know the first thing about construction. How long will it take her to learn, if she has to figure it out by herself? Where does she even start with something like this?

Aloy watches the sunlight slowly creep away from her, shadows prowling in from the east to greet her instead.

Construction doesn't matter if she doesn't know what she's building.

The wind stirs her hair and the furs on her shoulders, and she nods to herself, rubbing the strider's neck. She'll start at GAIA Prime. It's not the closest location she could hit, but it's the most important. It's not an easily navigated mess, either, and it'll probably take her weeks to examine all of its corners, but it's something. A solid plan. From there, she can make her way back to Sunfall and the Zero Dawn Project Facility, then to each of the Cauldrons, then to the Spire, and while she's at it, she can keep eyes, ears, and Focus attuned for any hint of other subordinate functions causing trouble.

It's a start, she tells herself, even as she hesitates at the idea of not directly pursuing HEPHAESTUS or the other subordinate functions. She doesn't know what they're capable of, but if any of them are like HADES...

She wouldn't even know where to start there, she reminds herself, and her hand strays towards the lance strapped to her back before she forcibly makes it drop. Revisiting the Zero Dawn sites may give her something. Something that she missed or some new insight. Revisiting the Cauldrons might even draw HEPHAESTUS to her. At the very least, she'll have a working idea of what, exactly, needs to be fixed.

Aloy pulls herself out of her thoughts with some difficulty and looks with fresh eyes on the ranch. With a start, she realizes that evening shadows have engulfed it, that the sun has dipped below the horizon, dragging daylight down with it. The skeleton of Elisabet's old home is now a set of indistinct dark stripes against an indigo backdrop, the trees ominous shadowy sentinels instead of welcome green sentiment.

Somewhere in that is Elisabet, guarded by a triangle of flowers. A fitting resting place, one that Aloy dares not disturb.

Her fingers dig into the globe, but Aloy turns. Her feet drag against the ground and the grass, but she forces herself to look at the strider, at its placid face hovering patiently at her side. Before mounting, she carefully tucks the globe away into a pouch, noting to herself that she'll have to get a cord for it, and then she's atop the strider. With a tap of her boots, it turns and faces west, and this time, Aloy doesn't let herself look back. All she'll see is shadows. Instead, she calls to mind the image of the ranch when she'd first arrived, wreathed in the pink and gold of earliest evening, purple flowers and green trees marking a haven in a dry emptiness.

GAIA's voice resonates in Aloy's mind long after the audio has gone silent, long after the ranch is far behind, swallowed up by the night.

_"Somehow, you will find a way."_

* * *

Nothing moves outside of Cauldron ZETA. Aloy crouches in a particularly thick patch of tall grass and listens, but no sound presents itself, save for her own quieted breath and the familiar chitters of nightlife. She flicks her Focus on again and traces its glowing patterns with her eyes, waiting for a stalker’s cloak to briefly flicker and shed, but nothing registers. No stalkers. Not even watchers.

Nothing. Only cool, silvery moonlight filtering through the canopy above, giving the deep greens and blues of the dell at night a sheen, illuminating the sparkling fireflies drawn to the red grasses.

Aloy leaves the Focus on and frowns. Her gut churns with misgiving.

Something is off here. XI and RHO had both been active when she’d revisited them, as if with renewed vigor, all signs of her efforts to override and calm them vanished. They’d been downright vicious, throwing machines at her as if something had wanted her to stay away. Just getting into them had been twice the challenge. But ZETA, worst of them all, stands innocuous. Unprotected.

Something is off.

Aloy leans back on her heels and deliberates as two fireflies dance in front of her eyes, points of gold in the dark. She has her suspicions about the Cauldrons she's revisited so far, about HEPHAESTUS. She wonders if it's become aware of her and her actions, if it seeks to thwart her, even though her purpose for revisiting the Cauldrons has nothing to do with it. Not yet, anyway. But it'll be a problem in the future. She can override the Cauldrons without difficulty once she reaches the core, but she'll never have the time or space to figure out how to use the Cauldrons herself, if HEPHAESTUS keeps resisting her control and throwing machines at her.

She stares at ZETA's entrance. It's closed again. She'll have to take the other way in.

Aloy hesitates for several more seconds, then scowls. Either she can stew here in uncertainty until the world ends again, or she can get going and let ZETA throw its surprise defenses at her. It's not like she has the upper hand in a waiting game against a self-sustaining machine facility, anyway.

She turns the Focus off and creeps forward out of the grass, fingers poised around riser and nock, muscles taut as bowstring, eyes sweeping the moonlit area.

She hears the telltale whoosh and creak of air and metal and twists her body around and up to get a lock on the source. But tremendous force barrels down between the trees, and all sense of direction flees Aloy as something seizes and throws her. Her bow is lost, wrenched out of her hands, and she scrambles to regain direction, one hand clawing at the ground as she tumbles and the other grasping for her lance. With a snarl, she stops herself against a tree and springs up, ready to strike.

A calculating part of her mind has already assessed the situation: a stormbird lying in wait just out of range of Focus and senses, before she was ever aware of it - as if it _knew_ that, some other part of her mind registers - and swooping down the moment she was occupied with moving.

Screeching and metallic flapping dominate the soundscape now, far too much for just one. Aloy revises her assessment as she activates her Focus and zeroes in on their positions: _two_  stormbirds. Of course.

Another screech joins the fray, and Aloy's stomach plummets as her strider comes barreling between the trees, drawn by the commotion. One of the stormbirds hovers close and low, unable to rise without difficulty due to the close proximity of so many trees, and the strider leaps at it.

"No!" Aloy cries out, and the ground threatens to give out beneath her as the stormbird turns its attention to the strider and rips into it like it's made of Carja silks instead of metal.

Aloy's vision narrows and darkens, and her ears scream. She lunges forward towards her fallen bow, unhooks her ropecaster, and afterwards, she can't quite remember the fight.

At some point, she realizes that parts of two dead stormbirds lay scattered between the trees and in the clearing in front of ZETA, their torsos crumpled before her. She stares at one of them as her breathing slows, as the ringing in her ears fades from a roar to a whisper. Three dead machines at her feet, and Aloy's throat is painfully clogged. She takes a few steps forward and drops to her knees next to the unmoving husk of her strider. It's still sparking, little flashes against the night, its sides torn open by stormbird talons. Aloy has only bruises and aches, no gaping gashes.

A hand raises to her mouth, as if to stem a tide, and she feels wetness under her fingers. She draws her hand back to look at it, expecting to see blood, but her fingers aren't red, only damp.

Since Sunfall. That's how long the strider has been with her. It had carried her to the assault on the Sacred Land, to GAIA Prime. Back to Meridian and to the Sacred Land again, not only to battle but to its aftermath. To Elisabet's home, the journey long and lonelier than usual, and then to the Zero Dawn ruins. She'd been careful to leave the machine in safe places when forced to engage with enemies and careful to avoid engaging whenever possible, and yet...

Damn it. Damn it, _damn_ it. She should have paid more attention to where she was leaving the strider, left it farther away, out of range of hearing even a stormbird's shrieks. She should have known that the fight would draw it, that it would leap to her defense.

With a wordless, angry huff, Aloy stands and turns on one of the stormbird corpses. She kicks it, swearing. Then she delivers another kick, for the strider's stupidity, thinking that it could take on a stormbird. And another kick and another, for her own stupidity, bringing the strider so close to danger and getting so attached to a machine in the first place.

Then she stops, feeling foolish, even though no one is watching.

Aloy loots the stormbirds for any materials that she needs, but she can't bring herself to do the same to the strider. She picks up the rucksacks scattered near it, which had been flung off of its back in the fray, and replaces the supplies that had spilled out. And then she realizes that she can't even carry half what she just gathered from the stormbirds or much extra at all, for that matter. Not without another mount to share the load.

The thought makes her scowl.

Aloy discards what she can't carry, avoids looking at the strider, and turns her attention to Cauldron ZETA.

* * *

She walks to the Sacred Land. It's stupid, and it's time wasted, and she discovers that muscles used for walking can, in fact, grow unused to it when you spend your time riding everywhere, but she persists. She avoids every settlement that borders the Claim and the Sundom and hurries through Dawn's Sentinel as fast as possible, and finally, almost two weeks after ZETA, dives into Cauldron SIGMA.

It's easier to clear out than the others, meant mostly for the construction of smaller machines they say were once harmless, but the sawtooth she finds guarding its core is every inch a predator, a little bigger than others she's faced and built to kill. Its red eyes, gleaming and alert, promise an intelligence that will make the fight just as difficult as the other Cauldrons had been.

She overrides it.

It's an impulsive decision. She's tired and sore, and it feels like more of a victory against HEPHAESTUS, more of a revenge for her dead strider, than taking it out. She has to find a corner to hide in for a long, long time until it finally gives up the search, and then she has to use every stealth trick she has to sneak up to it in such a relatively small space. But in the end, as the core carries them up, the sawtooth prowls unassumingly around her, no longer deranged.

The Cauldron entrance opens, but Aloy ignores it. She pats the sawtooth's side absently, retrieves a rucksack stocked with provisions, and returns to the depths of the facility.

She goes through the place again, now cleared out and temporarily calmed. As with the others, she finds nothing that can point her to where HEPHAESTUS hides, but she takes the same diligent records with her Focus, scanning and saving images of wires and pipes, interfaces and power cells, and occasionally prying things open physically to see their insides with her own eyes. She works until she can't ignore hunger anymore, stops for a few minutes to eat, and resumes.

At some points, she can almost hear a sarcastic voice over her Focus, criticizing her indelicate handling of things. She finds herself wanting to respond to it, missing it, and that is the only thing besides hunger and other immediate needs that halts her momentarily. Missing Sylens. Now there's a perturbing thought.

The pattern repeats, working and eating and working, sleeping once or twice, until finally, when she is stumbling in exhaustion, the investigation is thorough enough to satisfy her. She makes her tired way back to the entrance room and finds the sawtooth curled up against the risen core.

Aloy frowns. "You're still here?" she asks, and her frown deepens. The sound of her voice is strange, and it's not just the hoarse lack of sleep. It's... foreign. Like she's no longer used to it. How long has she been in the Cauldron? Sunlight filters through the entrance, but she's disturbed to realize that she doesn't know. She'd count backwards by meals to figure it out, but she can't remember how many times she'd stopped to eat.

The sawtooth jumps to its feet and approaches her, antennas twitching. Maybe it's because Aloy hasn't slept for more than three hours in All-Mother knows how long, but it's like the machine is greeting her. It circles around her, as if it wants her attention.

"What?" she asks. "I'm not your mother." The words are squeezed between yawns, and Aloy blinks rapidly and tries to think straight. She needs to find a safe place to sleep. Mother's Crown is close by, but she balks at the idea of putting up with stares and bows and whatever else the Nora want to bestow upon the Anointed returning to the Sacred Land at long last. Hunter's Gathering isn't much farther, and Gera and Kendert are always happy to welcome her, but still, she hesitates.

The sawtooth dips its head and bumps it against her arm.

Aloy blinks a few times and shakes her head, observing the way the sawtooth hovers close. She's never seen an overridden machine act this way. They're loyal, and they'll fight other machines to the death, but this... unbidden, she remembers the time she'd tried to keep a lost fox kit when she was very young, before Rost had sternly told her to bring it back to its den. _The wilds and their denizens don't belong to us, Aloy,_ he'd said. _We must respect them._

She raises her right hand and rests it against the sawtooth's head, then swallows thickly and shoves the memory away, while her left hand finds the bone pendant that Rost gave her, hanging at her neck. Her head feels tight, like it's buzzing, vibrations to match the ones she feels below the sawtooth's metal coat. Her eyes strain to close despite every effort to hold them open, and she knows that she's not going to make it to any settlement, even if she wants to.

"Alright," she says, patting the sawtooth’s head. "I'm trusting you. I hope this isn't a mistake."

She finds the darkest corner of the entrance room that she can tuck herself into, where she's least likely to be seen from the outside, and falls asleep within seconds of resting her head on a rucksack.

* * *

Aloy skirts the Embrace and shuns the roads as she angles past Devil's Thirst, pushing through the earliest hours of the morning. When the Nora Hunting Grounds come into view, just as dawn is beginning to break, she slows. She can see the Keeper's house atop the promontory, and as she nears, she sees a figure rise from its crouch near a cooking pot, moving to the edge of the promontory to watch her approach.

She brings the sawtooth to a halt with a twisting of her knees. It responds as well as the strider had, ambling to a stop, and Aloy jumps off. "Stay here," she tells it, a little uncertainly, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. Its behavior is mostly inscrutable to her, but as she follows the path that winds up and around the promontory, the sawtooth doesn't try to follow. It remains at the base, watching her and obeying. Then again, she's not exactly leaving its sight.

When Aloy reaches the top, the Keeper steps around the fire and moves to greet her. It's early enough that the merchant isn't even here yet, but the fire is already stoked, and well-cooked smells drift from the cooking pot - boar meat, Aloy thinks. She isn't the only early riser. "You've learned some new tricks," the Keeper says lightly.

"I've learned a lot more than that," Aloy says with an attempt at a smile. It sits oddly on her face, like she's out of practice. Abruptly, she wonders if it's possible to forget how to go through the motions of interaction entirely.

The Keeper's face breaks into an answering smile. "I'd expect nothing less from the woman who won three Blazing Suns and went on to become a Hawk. I hear you saved the world, too." It's nothing like the reverence and awe that Aloy gets from other Nora, and it's not often that praise doesn't make Aloy uncomfortable, but something about the Keeper puts her at ease.

She shrugs. "I helped. How have you been?"

"Good," the Keeper says with a nod, and momentary surprise settles onto his face, as if taken aback by the genuine feeling behind his own answer. It clears, and he continues. "The attack hit us all hard, even us on the outside, but things are getting back to the way they used to be. More or less." He offers another nod to Aloy. "The opening of the borders has changed a few things."

"Getting more business?" Aloy asks, stepping around any mention of her role in that.

"Some, yes," the Keeper says. "And I don't have to worry about moving freely through Nora territory anymore. But something tells me you didn't just come here to ask about my day."

Aloy shifts her feet and glances down at the waiting sawtooth. Its blue eyes, fixed on her, gleam in the pale pink light of early morning. "I need to ask you a little favor."

The Keeper follows her gaze, and when his eyes flick back to her, he looks amused. "Little?"

Aloy gives him an apologetic look. "Kind of big," she says. "Can you handle a sawtooth? In theory?"

"I've fought a few in my day," the Keeper says, thoughtful. "Fought bigger, too. Why?"

"I want to leave that one in the woods between here and Devil's Thirst for a few days, while I... get some things done," Aloy says. She has enough whispers trailing in her wake, and riding up to Mother's Watch on a sawtooth wouldn’t help matters. Not to mention how unsettling most Nora would find it. "It would be a big help if you could keep an eye on it, take it down if something goes wrong while I'm away."

The Keeper gives her a searching look. "They call you machine tamer," he says. "You ever have trouble with one you've tamed before?"

"Never," Aloy says. "But this one's... different. It's not a bad different, it's just... I don't understand why yet, so I'd rather be safe. It shouldn't give you any trouble, though." She doesn't expect it to revert back to a deranged state, and so she isn't actually worried about leaving it close to the Hunting Grounds, but it's better to have all angles covered. "If you could just tell me how it behaves while I'm gone, that's the important thing. But if you're not comfortable with this, I can take it somewhere else."

"Oh, I'll do it," the Keeper says. "Anything for the Anointed." Aloy narrows her eyes, and then she sees the teasing grin tugging at the Keeper's mouth. "Seriously, I'm not going to pass up the chance to see your magic in action," he continues. "But I have a condition." He pauses, rather dramatically. "When you come back, you tell me how you tame machines."

Aloy smiles. "Deal."

* * *

The woods between the Nora Hunting Grounds and Devil's Thirst are quiet and empty of machines, with only the nearby tallneck's distant footfalls for company. Morning mist coils through it, glowing with the earliest sunlight, the source of which still lies hidden behind the mountains. There's plenty of space for the sawtooth to run around if it wants, though Aloy isn't sure what overridden machines like to do. The machines had originally served GAIA, but as far as Aloy can figure, from piecing together recollections of the Derangement and information left by the Alphas, sawtooths had been created by HEPHAESTUS.

The sawtooth doesn't seem to mind the area, at least, and Aloy takes a step back from it, holding up her hands. "Stay here," she tells it. "I'll be back in a few days." She has no idea if it can understand her or not, but it feels better to say it out loud regardless. "Don't give the Keeper any trouble," she adds, for good measure.

The creature looks at her, unreadable. Behind her, the Keeper watches, fascinated. "Does it know what you're saying?"

Aloy shrugs. Sometimes she wonders if her Focus has helped with guiding overridden machines, has somehow managed to transmit her intentions to them. "Can't hurt to try."

They stand there for a moment, watching the sawtooth, which watches them in turn. Aloy takes another step back, and the sawtooth doesn't move, though it seems twitchy. _Please stay,_ she begs it silently. She appreciates that it seems to have an attachment to her, but she really doesn't need it following her to Mother's Watch.

"Will it mind if I get close?" the Keeper asks.

"Go ahead," Aloy says, gesturing to the machine. "It might help."

The man does so without fear, which is impressive even to Aloy. She'd been a little hesitant about touching her first overridden machine, and that had been a strider. The Keeper approaches the sawtooth slowly, holding out his hand as one might with a wild animal, and it regards him calmly. Its head tilts when the Keeper places a hand on its neck, and it looks at him a little more closely, but beyond that, it doesn't react.

"Amazing," the Keeper breathes.

Aloy backs away some more, and the sawtooth stays. All it does is stretch a little as the Keeper runs a hand over it, morning light glinting off of its metal hide. Both of them are at ease, and Aloy relaxes too as she watches them. "Okay," she says, resting her hands on her hips as she observes the sawtooth. "I think this'll work."


	2. Chapter 2

It's the height of summer, when the sun's rays hit the earth like a cascade of fire arrows, and the trees are at their deepest, most brilliant green, and a haze sits on the air. Uncomfortable warmth blankets itself over Aloy's skin as she takes the roads this time, but the burning of the sun is nothing compared to the burning sense of attention that she can no longer escape within the Sacred Land.

Once, eyes had averted from her entirely, and once, the injustice of it had made her eyes and throat sting more than the fiercest winter winds could. Now, Aloy finds herself wishing for the Nora to revert back to the behavior that had followed her like a shadow while growing up. She'd had years to build up protective armor against it, woven out of hard training and the burning desire to prove what she already knew, and she'd had Rost to help strengthen it. But reverence, awe? Even worship? There is no defense, no matter how much she bristles. Discomfort finds its way through every time, and there is no guiding figure to teach her how to fix the holes in her armor.

Being back isn't all bad, however. There is comfort in the trees and their always recurring green, and Aloy has missed the woods. Already the land is healing, its settlements halfway rebuilt, new buds and saplings springing up where plant life had been torn up by enemy machines. There's a large new batch of braves, too, Aloy learns from snatches of conversation - both the young and a few older who had seen fit to take up defense of the tribe in the wake of so many braves lost.

Even though Aloy can't look on it all with the same devotion that Rost had, the sight and the news does her some good. Many of the people she passes on the roads stare and whisper and try to obtain her blessing, but some are more like the Keeper - they welcome her as Aloy, someone they know, someone who helped them along the way.

The sun is drifting down towards the horizon once more by the time she nears Mother's Watch, and Aloy catches sight of a figure on the other side of the last bridge before the mountain. The figure, clearly waiting for someone, adjusts itself, turns in her direction, and then throws an arm up in welcome, sending a rush of emotion through Aloy's chest, something that punches deeper than she expects.

It aches, and she has to breathe deeply around it. But she smiles through it, and the expression is mirrored on Varl's face, though his is more natural, practiced. Still, it comes easier to Aloy after spending time with the Keeper, and it's easier still with Varl, not only because he's one of the few Nora who will look her in the eye. 

"Aloy!" Varl says as he jogs up to greet her, and he stands there on the bridge, fidgeting, as if not sure what to do with his arms. "You're back."

"Good observation," Aloy says, mouth twitching.

Varl's shoulders relax a little. "Are you  _back_?" he asks. "I mean, for good? Or at least for some time? I... it's been a while."

Aloy bites her lip. "Not yet," she says. She can't quite bring herself to tell him that she doesn't consider this a home, that she can't really fathom settling here one day. She can't picture that anywhere, come to think of it, and she hopes that it doesn't show on her face, even as it twists her insides. She should probably go and apologize to Rost's grave for it, at some point. She rolls the bone pendant between two fingers. "I still have work to do."

Varl nods. "Of course." Everything shows on his face, including disappointment, but he masters it swiftly. "Still working for the Goddess?"

"Yeah. She still needs my help with... some things." Aloy winces. She hates this, trying to navigate between the Nora's beliefs and her own incomplete knowledge, and her hand drops absently to a pouch hanging at her side, seized by a sudden idea, a sudden memory. A dreary dawn within All-Mother Mountain after the Eclipse attack, Varl's hesitation but not outright rejection. "That's why I'm here. Why are you here?" Her hand leaves the pouch and gestures to Mother's Watch.

"I heard you were back," Varl says, as if it's obvious. Of course whispers would travel faster than Aloy's feet. "I thought you'd come here first. I wanted to see you."

Warmth centers itself in Aloy's chest, warmth that has nothing to do with summer sitting hazily on the air around them, softer than what had struck her when she'd caught sight of Varl. With it comes a stab of guilt. "You didn't ditch anything just to see me, did you?"

Varl chuckles. "I'm on hunting duty right now. The schedule is flexible."

Aloy grasps at the pouch again. "Thanks, Varl. I missed you too." She pauses for the span of a breath, one that allows her to steady herself. "Could we talk? About why I'm here?" Varl's gaze becomes expectant, apprehensive, but before either of them can speak, Aloy becomes aware of others leaving Mother's Watch and heading for the bridge. She and Varl step aside to let them pass. Aloy determinedly ignores the eyes on her and notes that the bridge is as good as new, planks no longer cracked by Corruptor talons. "Somewhere private? Like at the temple?"

She doesn't miss the flash of trepidation that crosses Varl's face, but he nods, and they make their way through the gate and into the settlement proper. "How's reconstruction been going?" Aloy asks, to put Varl at ease and distract herself from the stares that fix themselves on her back. They walk through the settlement and up the winding road that leads to the mountain, and Aloy observes the dwellings both fully reconstructed and half-finished. As she does, Varl tells her how the walls have been mostly rebuilt, the razed homes and fields mostly restored, the injured mostly healed. He tells her how the entire tribe had come together to see it done, even the former outcasts.

So the Matriarchs had kept their promise. It had been one of two things Aloy that had used her newfound status to change, and it had been based on a lie. There is no Goddess to be displeased at the mistake of casting Aloy out – at least, not until she revives GAIA. But the practice had needed to change. Casting people out is to be reserved for serious crimes like murder. Not for children who can't help being born or people who interact with the world outside the Sacred Land.

"That's good to hear," Aloy murmurs as they near the triangular entrance. She stiffens when someone emerges and starts down the path.

High Matriarch Lansra stops and stares at them, and Aloy swallows back an instantaneous bitterness that congeals at the back of her throat. The world is so much bigger than Lansra, than the woman's small-minded ways. Aloy, everything she's done, everything she's doing, is so much bigger. Lansra's level is not something to stoop to, she reminds herself.

So Aloy inclines her head. "High Matriarch," she says calmly.

Lansra's eyes flick to Varl, then to Aloy. There's fear and misplaced reverence in them, and the bitterness in Aloy's throat dissolves into something that doesn't taste much better: pity.

"Anointed," Lansra says, bowing deep, hiding her eyes.

Aloy steps around her, a silent dismissal, and Lansra scurries off. Aloy doesn't watch her go, but Varl does, eyes wide. He looks back at Aloy, shaking his head. "I'm not used to that," he says. "Seeing her so... meek." He pauses and gives Aloy a curious glance. "I'm surprised you're not angrier."

"Oh, I am," Aloy says. "But I have better things to do." She takes a few more steps towards the temple entrance and realizes that Varl's presence is no longer close.

She looks back with a sinking heart. Varl stands as if rooted to the ground, apprehension plain to see, and Aloy gets the sense that he hasn't been anywhere near All-Mother's temple since it had become a temporary shelter during and after the attack. She falters, unsure of what to say, her sudden hope sparked at the bridge now floundering. If he isn't even willing to go inside the temple...

"Is it alright?" Varl asks.

"The Goddess doesn't mind," Aloy says, which is easier to get out than some other claims she's made. It's completely true, after all.

Varl runs his eyes over the mountainside, as if searching for a confirmation from All-Mother herself. "It's not her I'm worried about," he mutters, not quite looking Aloy in the eye this time.

Aloy doesn't think that's true, but she knows he's trying to cover up whatever is dragging his feet. It's something more, she thinks, studying him. More than hesitation at bending the rules of the tribe. Does he know what she wants? But Aloy decides to follow suit and summons up a half-hearted grin. "Come on, the worst one just left. The others are easy."

It coaxes a laugh out of Varl, and at last, he follows her into the mountain.

Inside, Aloy is met with a joyful greeting from Teersa, who emerges from one of the prayer rooms at the sound of their footsteps. Teersa hugs her without hesitation, and Aloy welcomes it and returns it gladly. She thinks of Elisabet's resting place without meaning to, and her arms tighten involuntarily.

"It has been too long," Teersa says warmly. She pulls back, and her hands rub Aloy's shoulders comfortingly before dropping.

"I'm sorry," Aloy says, and guilt stabs at her again. "I've been busy on All-Mother's behalf, still." Truth, restless from being pent-up for so long, wants to spill out of her. Full truth, not this half-honest dance around words that don't fit naturally in her mouth. She resists the urge to look back at Varl.

Teersa gives her a keen look, as if seeing Aloy's discomfort. "And how goes your quest for the Goddess?" is all the woman asks, however.

"It's coming along," Aloy says. "Slowly. I need to speak to her. I also need to speak to Varl." She searches for an explanation and grasps at the vaguest one she can. "He may be able to help me with some things that the Goddess needs."

Teersa nods and offers Varl a smile. She seems unfazed by his presence within the temple. "A blessed honor, young man."

"Of course, High Matriarch," Varl says, and even though his nervousness remains, his voice is sincere.

Teersa steps back, and Aloy doesn't need to indicate that she means to talk to Varl privately. "I'll be down in Mother's Watch with Lansra, if you have need of me," Teersa says, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she regards them. Aloy gets the sense that Teersa knows there are significant things not being said, but the woman's trust in Aloy supersedes any suspicion. A different kind of guilt jabs at Aloy and probably shows up unguarded on her face, but Teersa only gives them a farewell and a blessing and departs.

Aloy spends a moment watching Teersa leave, then drifts down to the Great Chamber, the candlelit room that borders the Cradle door, unhurried steps giving her a little more time to think. She hadn't planned for this on the way here, but she's gone over this scenario many times in her head since the attack. Still, when faced with it, words seem to float just out of reach.

But it's not that she doesn't know what to say. It's that she isn't sure if she wants the answer.

She gazes at the Cradle door for a moment, then turns to find Varl fidgeting again, not quite looking at her or the door. The candlelight flickers, obscuring both of their faces in shifting shadows, making the claw of the Metal Devil above glitter, and Aloy opens her mouth and closes it again. She wants –  _needs_  – someone else to share all of this with. She'd known it after she'd met Varl on the bridge. Known it after she found herself shedding tears over a strider and missing Sylens, actually.

Aloy can't figure out what her relationship with solitude is, whether she craves it or abhors it or both, but walking alone under the weight of the old world, she decides, is not preferable.

She's offered this to Varl before. He hadn't given her a solid answer. She'll offer again, and if he doesn't want it, well... she'll find someone else.

"Aloy," Varl says before she can speak, and as she suspected, he's already aware of her intentions. "I know what's in there is probably very different from what I'm imagining. And it's probably different from what the rest of us believe." He gives her sheepish look. "You do act... blasphemous, sometimes, so it has to be."

Aloy bites back a bitter laugh. But she softens and grips the pouch at her side with unsteady fingers. "So you know that I want to ask you the same thing I asked before," she says, and she tries not to let pleading bleed through. "If I can show you everything I've been learning. If we can... learn things together." She bites her lip again. "But you don't have to go in there with me. I'd understand. I wouldn't think less of you for it. What's in there is... a lot to take in. And some of it isn't pretty. It's a heavy burden to carry, and you need to know that before you make any decisions."

Varl's eyes shift between her and the door. "Does the Goddess will it?" he asks, hesitant.

"No," Aloy says firmly. "She's... okay with it, but it's your choice. I want it to be because  _you_  want it." No matter how much she wants someone else to walk alongside her, no matter how much she wants that person to be Varl, she doesn't want it to be out of obligation.

Varl is quiet for a while, and Aloy doesn't break the silence. Varl's fidgeting grows more pronounced, and she gets the sense that he's wrestling with something else, something monumental that struggles to break free from his throat. Finally, he works up the nerve, staring at the dancing candle flames as the faltering words make their way out. " _Is_  there a Goddess?" Varl asks, soft, strained, equal parts guilt and fear and the desperate hope that Aloy will somehow allay both.

For a moment, Aloy is perfectly still, and her heart aches. She's never had much use for belief, but it's important to him, and she wonders how long he's played home to doubt. If her own actions have unintentionally played a part. "There was," she says. At least she can give him something; the differences between a goddess and a sentient life-restoring machine become negligible after a point. "Some of her still lingers. And I'm working on bringing her back, so she can restore the machines to a peaceful state and keep looking after the world. You're right, she's not what you think, but..." Aloy takes a breath, "there  _is_  something in there, Varl, I promise you."

The tension flees Varl's frame as Aloy speaks, as if a weight lifts from him. She can tell that he's trying not to look as relieved as he feels. Finally, he meets Aloy's eyes and takes a breath. "Alright. If you really want me to go in there with you, then... I'm ready."

Aloy tempers her own relief. "Are you sure?"

Varl smiles in answer, but there's a faraway look in his eyes. "What you said after the attack, how the door opened for you... it's hard to stop thinking about it sometimes."

"I know the feeling," Aloy says. She wonders if he wants to resolve his doubt himself, with his own eyes, too. Her hand drops to the pouch again, reaching into it. "I have something for you. You'll need it, to see what I see." She withdraws a small triangular device and displays it on her open palm. "This is a Focus like mine," she says, indicating the device clipped above her ear. The one she offers to Varl is the extra she carries as a precaution, after losing her first one to Helis and after the shock of shoving the master override into HADES had done something to her second one that had taken a while to figure out how to repair. "The Old Ones used these for... well, for a lot of things, but one of those things was seeing messages that were tr-... communicated across light."

Varl's hand extends, then stops, hovering in mid-air. Hesitation sweeps across his face, and Aloy knows that it's at the idea of touching something considered taboo, touched by the taint of the Old Ones. But as she opens her mouth to tell him that it's okay, that he doesn't have to do this if he really doesn't want to, Varl grabs the Focus with a quick motion. He holds it up to study it and finds it harmless. He glances at Aloy's Focus, then clips his to his head in a similar fashion, jumping a little when it attaches firmly.

Aloy shows him how to turn it on, and she knows that the web of lights and information has made itself visible to him when his eyes widen in wonder. Watching him, she can't resist a smile.

"I..." Varl breathes, unable to find words. "You walk around like this?"

"Only when it's on. It'll respond to your movements and voice, even your thoughts, so you can change what it shows you." Aloy waits, letting him play around with the settings, watching some of his hesitation melt away and his eyes dance as he experiments.

"The Old Ones had the same language as us," Varl says in surprise. "I can understand some of this."

He'll understand why, in time. "I found my Focus when I was a kid," Aloy says. "Took me forever to figure out what the rest meant." Parsing out the meaning of forgotten words has been a challenge, but it's gotten easier with her discoveries of other ruins and data fragments, her growing knowledge of the past. "I can explain some of it later."

Finally, Varl touches the Focus again, powering it down and blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision. "How did they do that?" he asks, voice soft with awe. "Communicate across light?"

"I'll get back to you when I understand that myself." Aloy is still trying to figure out exactly what  _electromagnetic_  means and how invisible waves are supposed to work and how those had facilitated the Old Ones' methods of communication. Maybe GAIA will be able to help fill in some of the holes in the data Aloy has gathered, help cross some of the unfathomably huge gaps left by the destruction of APOLLO. Aloy pushes those thoughts aside and regards Varl for a moment longer. He seems more at ease, genuinely curious, and she feels comfortable proceeding. "Are you ready?"

Varl nods, and though his nerves are plain to see, it isn't the dread from before.

"Uh... I'll tell you when you need to turn your Focus on," Aloy adds. She doesn't want Varl picking up on any of the other data fragments left in the facility, not yet.  _She_  still feels queasy when she thinks about the leftover multiservitor recordings, and she's had a lifetime of exposure to the wonders and horrors that the Focus has shown her. One earth-shattering revelation at a time for Varl.

Varl nods again and indicates that she should lead the way, so Aloy approaches the Cradle door.

_"Hold for identiscan."_

She hears an intake of breath as the synthetic voice is activated and red light flashes, swallowing her.

 _"Genetic identity confirmed. Entry authorized."_  The door slides open. " _Greetings, Dr. Sobeck. You are cleared to proceed."_

On impulse, Aloy looks back and offers her hand, wanting to make sure that Varl feels comfortable, and uncertainty washes over her for a moment. She isn't used to initiating physical contact or knowing when it's the right move. But Varl takes her hand in his own without appearing to think much of it, aside from a quick, grateful smile, and they enter the facility.

_"Welcome to ELEUTHIA Cradle-9, Brood-1."_

The voice is loud and echoes off the walls as the door closes behind them. Dull purple light replaces the warmth of candlelight, misty and ancient and cold, not much of a buffer against the darkness. But Varl's callused hand is warm beneath Aloy's, staving off some of the bleakness.

"Who's Dr. Sobeck?" Varl asks, as Aloy leads him through the entrance room to the door on the left.

"She's... I guess you could say she's my mother." Aloy's moves heavy feet against the weight of her thoughts and stops at the door. She spins the lock, opening it. " _Was_  my mother. Elisabet Sobeck was her name."

"You guess?"

"It's... complicated. I wasn't born normally." She's surprised at how easy it is to say. As if she's thought about it so much that expressing it aloud isn't much of a jump, regardless of how her stomach still flips at it.

Varl is silent as they take a flight of stairs down. "Is that the Goddess's name?" he asks, when they reach the floor.

"No." Aloy leads him through the curving hallway that circles the Lyceum. The air is less stale than her initial visit here, but it's thick and heavy, and moving takes extra effort. Or maybe that's just her. "The Goddess's name is GAIA. She's... also my mother. She created me in Elisabet's image. Elisabet was her creator, but she died a long time ago."

"I get what you mean by complicated." Varl stops suddenly at the sight of the crumpled metal skeleton that lays sprawled across the floor of the hallway, his hand tightening around Aloy's. "What is-?"

"It's a machine," Aloy says quickly. "Long dead. It used to be a... a servant of the Goddess." Not the most apt explanation, but close enough for now. She can feel the tension in Varl's grip, and she shares the sentiment. The servitors, and the holos she'd picked up from scanning them, unsettle her still. They step carefully around the metal corpse and continue, and another dead servitor is soon visible around another bend in the hallway. Varl's fingers tighten again.

"You said the Goddess can make the machines peaceful again," he says, as they approach the door at the end of the hall. "Were they all her servants too?"

"From what I understand," Aloy answers, deciding to leave the likely distinction between GAIA's machines and HEPHAESTUS's machines for another time, "yes. They were meant to care for the world. But not the ones that attacked us and Meridian. The Corruptors, the Deathbringers, the Metal Devils... those were never hers. She was created to defeat them."

"So that part is true? All-Mother killing the Metal Devils?"

_"Hold for identiscan."_

Red light drenches Aloy. "Yeah."

_"Genetic identity confirmed. Entry authorized. Greetings, Dr. Sobeck. You are cleared to proceed."_

The lock turns green, and the door slides open.

_"Welcome to the Lyceum, a place of learning."_

"This place recognizes you  _as_  Elisabet Sobeck," Varl says.

"Yeah," Aloy sighs. "GAIA... All-Mother... made me from... from what was left of Elisabet." Her left hand goes the globe that hangs from her neck, Elisabet's miniature replica of their world, and she twists it between her fingers. They take the stairs down into the circular Lyceum, and the pressure of Varl's hand against her own drags a little. Aloy glances back to find Varl observing everything with wide eyes. "Need a moment?"

Varl nods, though he doesn't let go of Aloy's hand, and they pause at the foot of the stairs. His eyes rake over the rows of holographic interfaces, caught somewhere between wonder and a faint revulsion. The room is dark and eerie and dead, and Aloy breathes past a remembered echo of Samina's voice rattling around beneath her ribs. The woman's despair at the death of APOLLO is imprinted behind her eyelids. "A place of learning?" Varl asks, pulling Aloy from her thoughts.

"The Old Ones left all of this behind so that we could learn about them," Aloy says. "Learn the things they knew. But something went wrong." Some _one_  went wrong, and Aloy burns at the memory. But that's a story for later.

Varl studies the place a moment longer, and Aloy wonders if it bothers him, the slow revelation that All-Mother and machines are so thoroughly intertwined, that All-Mother and the Old Ones are not what the Nora think - not enemies, but extensions of each other. But Varl only nods again, and they continue on, circling around the Lyceum to the opposite side, where another set of stairs will take them up to the control room. As they climb the stairs, Varl's hand tightens around Aloy's again. "Was Elisabet Sobeck... human?"

 _Are you human?_  is the unspoken question. Aloy stares straight ahead, seeing a body surrounded by a triangle of flowers. "Yeah. She was one of the Old Ones."

"A human created the Goddess?" Varl asks in awe.

The reach the control room door, and Aloy stops, turning to face him, letting go of his hand at last. "She did. But she was a pretty exceptional human."

"So are you," Varl says.

It's honestly meant, earnest, and Aloy tries to smile. "Behind this," she says, changing the subject, jerking her finger over her shoulder at the door, "is a message left by GAIA. It explains what happened to her, though you won't be able to understand all of it yet. I'm still working on that myself. Do you want to see it?"

Varl takes a deep breath. "I do," he says, resolute.

Aloy gives him another small smile, then turns and spins the lock. The door opens, and they enter. Immediately, Varl peers around the control room, as if expecting to see some larger-than-life figure already standing within. Aloy positions herself and him in front of the terminal that stands near the center of the room, before the hologram platform. "You need to scan that with your Focus."

Hesitantly, Varl places a finger on the device.

_"Error. Directive limits priority message to genetic profile of Elisabet Sobeck. Access denied."_

"Override the directive," Aloy says, hoping that it works, that she's got the phrasing right. "Extend access to another genetic profile."

 _"Processing."_  Aloy holds her breath.  _"To initiate, state name and rank."_

"Elisabet Sobeck, Alpha Prime," Aloy says, satisfied. She could've just given her Focus to Varl, the message already embedded within it, but overriding a directive here gives her an important piece of proof - that this part of Zero Dawn, unlike the Cauldrons, still answers to her, with no interference from any rogue AIs.

_"Override initiated. Second life form detected. Grant access?"_

"Yes."

Varl starts when the terminal emits a red light that envelops him. It disappears, and the synthetic voice resounds within the confines of the control room once more.  _"Genetic profile scanned. Add to Alpha Registry?"_

Startled, Aloy hesitates only a moment. "Yes," she blurts out. It could be a good thing, giving a second person access to Zero Dawn, someone she trusts.

_"Processing. State name and rank."_

Aloy nods to Varl, trying to think up a rank for him, and his eyes widen. "Uh... Varl?" His voice drops to a whisper. "What's my rank?"

_"Error. Statement not processed. Please repeat."_

"Alpha Eleuthia," Aloy whispers hastily, grabbing at the first name that comes to mind.

"Varl, Alpha Eleuthia," Varl says as his eyes roam the ceiling uncertainly.

_"Error. Rank is attached to existing entry. Overwrite genetic profile of Patrick Brochard-Klein?"_

Aloy's throat tightens. She'd watched Patrick die, more than once. The holo, saved in her Focus, keeps drawing her back. "Yes," she whispers.

_"Error. Statement not processed. Please repeat."_

"Yes," Aloy says again, after clearing her throat.

_"Genetic profile added to Alpha Registry. Greetings, Varl."_

Aloy smiles at the look on Varl's face.

_"Access granted to priority message for Dr. Sobeck. Proceed with playback?"_

"Yes," Aloy says, syncing her Focus with the terminal.

At last, the hologram emerges from the pedestal that stands before the terminal, darkening the rest of the room so that it appears infinite. Even though Aloy has seen the message many times, replaying it through the copy in her Focus in order to commit it to memory, it takes her breath away in its full glory and sends a chill running up her spine. GAIA's holographic form and the symbols of her subordinate functions appear in a burst of colors. Varl watches, mesmerized, as GAIA speaks, and Aloy watches him. She tries to see it through Varl's eyes. Tries to see the Goddess, the All-Mother, the closest thing to her that exists in this world.

It's not hard. Aloy gets the feeling that GAIA was designed to look precisely like that.

_"I only wish that I could hear your voice again."_

The hologram disappears, the infinite fades. The smaller, stifling control room returns. Varl stares at the spot where GAIA vanished, and Aloy waits.

Finally, Varl turns to face Aloy. He looks grave, having picked up on the dire nature of the message, but something else shines in his eyes as well. A confirmation that something else exists, something real. A thrill in curiosity, in the unknown now laid out before him. A desire to understand.

Aloy had known that there was something distinctly not Nora within him, even if buried deep and dug up only by prolonged doubt. Known it in the way he'd eyed her every time she'd spoken of the old world, the way he'd been drawn to her even when she spoke of taboo things. Her journey deeper into the old world had never driven him off, had only pulled him closer even through his uncertainty, and that had told her enough.

She sees that same thing in him now, a little stronger and hungry for answers.

* * *

By the time Aloy has finished telling the whole story, her throat itches with the effort. She and Varl sit on chairs that line the tables on the other side of the control room, opposite the hologram terminal, and Aloy has no idea how much time has passed. It seems suspended, meaningless, here in the depths of the old world's ruins. But Aloy feels better. Lighter. As if spilling the truth to someone else has lifted a weight from her.

"The whole world," Varl murmurs. He stares at nothing in particular, and one of his hands clutches the curving edge of the table. "The  _whole world_."

Elisabet's globe dangles from Aloy's fingers now. She'd experienced the same dizzying difficulty, trying to imagine their world stripped to nothing but rock and covered in monstrous machines. Aloy's eyes had been drawn to the globe repeatedly as she'd spoke, and she'd offered it to Varl to demonstrate what the world of the Old Ones had been like. Such destruction, on such a massive scale, and the scale of the world is so much bigger than the Sacred Land. It's no surprise that Varl looks a little sick.

"And GAIA brought everything back?" Varl's fingers knead the table's edge. "I know you said she's some kind of advanced machine, but... that sounds like a goddess to me. I'm... I'm still going to think of her that way until I get used to this."

Aloy shrugs. "Goddess, machine... I don't think the difference really matters."

Varl nods, then presses a finger to his Focus. "How do I get it to show the message from GAIA again? Oh-" He stops talking, his eyes fixed on thin air, and it's easy enough to guess that his Focus has begun to play the message for him, projected from a copy that the device had automatically saved. Aloy waits, hearing the message perfectly even though she can't see what Varl is seeing.

 _In you, all things are possible,_  the echo of GAIA's voice whispers in her mind. Talking to Elisabet. To Aloy. Where is the line drawn?

Varl's voice reaches Aloy's ears, and she drags herself into the present. "-oing to help her?"

Aloy gives herself a shake. "What?"

"Do you know how you're going to help her?" Varl repeats patiently.

"I have... half a plan," Aloy says reluctantly, and she sinks a little deeper into the dusty metal of the chair. "I've been revisiting the Zero Dawn sites that I know of, to take a look at their construction. The Focus helps me to understand, but... it can only tell me so much. The rest is guessing." She squeezes the globe tightly against her palm. "I just have to rebuild the damaged parts at GAIA Prime. I can use the Cauldrons to create what I need, but HEPHAESTUS is the one who knows how to use them, and," she sighs, "I don't know what to do about the sub-functions."

Varl nods slowly as he takes it all in. Aloy wonders how much he's reframing into the context of his own beliefs, in order to make sense of it himself. She almost wants to ask, so that she can understand what belief is like. But she doesn't. "GAIA's message said they  _all_  escaped." Varl's face darkens. "Do you think that's going to cause more trouble? If HADES almost destroyed us all, and HEPHAESTUS caused the Derangement, what are the others going to do?"

Aloy shrugs. "I won't know until they do something." They may already be active, and that thought has lurked in the back of her mind since she'd first seen GAIA's message. Six entirely unknown factors and one still mostly unknown, and they could be doing anything. She has no reason to believe that they're all as malicious as HADES and HEPHAESTUS, but she has no reason to believe that they aren't, either.

Silence settles, ominous and heavy, and Aloy opens her left hand and lets the globe roll around on her palm. "After I'm done with the Zero Dawn sites," she continues, "I need to find HEPHAESTUS." It helps, to say things out loud. Makes them manageable, instead of too big, too much. "If it won't back down, I can probably use the master override on it, and that may even stop the Derangement." The lance leans against the nearby wall, a generosity that she still doesn't quite understand. "But... I don't want to destroy HEPHAESTUS permanently, either. I need its ability to build machine parts. But none of that even matters if I can't find it." She brings her other hand up to rub her forehead in frustration. "I don't think it wants to be found."

Varl drums his fingers on the table. "Wouldn't it be at one of those places you mentioned?"

"I've only found four Cauldrons," Aloy answers. "HEPHAESTUS could be hiding in another one, but I don't know where the rest are or how many there are."

Silence again. Aloy shoves her many worries to the side and glances at Varl, who stares at the hologram terminal again, deep in thought. He's taking everything better than she expected. She wonders if it's because he'd initially feared that there was  _nothing_  waiting in the heart of the mountain. Something, even if that something is machines and artificial intelligences, probably seems better than nothing. Something is tangible, can be dealt with and rationalized.

Varl looks up, catches her eye, and shifts. "Guess you didn't just come here to see me, huh?" he says jokingly.

Aloy musters up a smile. It feels faint under all that rests on her still, but she hopes it comes across as genuine. "I need to study this place, but... I did come here for you." Maybe not intentionally at first, but their conversation, after the Cradle had opened for her, has weighed on her mind for months now, as much as it must have weighed on Varl's. It had never been a matter of if she would try again, only when. "To tell you about all of this, if you wanted to hear it. I wanted to share it with you. You," she stops and has to start over, because she isn't used to baring her soul like this, "you were the first person I wanted to talk to about it. I trust you, Varl, more than I trust anyone."

It's true, even though she hasn't consciously thought about it until now. Varl wears his emotions where everyone can see, and she can't see a hint of guile anywhere in him. He's all honesty and conviction and honor, and it doesn't matter that their approach to faith is so different, that Varl is more Nora than she'll ever be - she trusts his goodness.

Varl's eyes widen. He stares at her, then ducks his head, almost bashful. "Thanks," he says. "I'll live up to that, I promise."

"I know you will," Aloy says. She wouldn't have given him easy access to Zero Dawn if she doubted it. She stands up and wraps the globe's cord back around her neck. "So... wanna help me pry open some of this plating and see what's underneath?"

* * *

Aloy spends five days in the Embrace. Most of that time is dedicated to examining every inch of the Cradle facility that she can access, sometimes with Varl's help, documenting its inner workings with her Focus and comparing them to her recordings of GAIA Prime, the Zero Dawn Project Facility, and the Cauldrons. But some of that time is spent in company with Varl and other Nora more likely to see her as Aloy instead of Anointed. She tries not to brood too much while she's among them, even though her head feels full with too many thoughts and life among everyday routines feels like an ill-fit.

On the second day, when Varl is occupied with his own duties and Aloy is alone in ELEUTHIA-9, she emerges from the Cradle door, feet dragging in exhaustion. Her Focus had alerted her to the time as she'd requested, and she knows that evening is turning to night outside. For once, she decides, she's going to do as others do and sleep when the sun does.

She'd received several offers for lodgings - Varl and Sona's lodge, Teb's lodge, a place with the High Matriarchs in Mother's Heart, a newly reconstructed and empty dwelling in Mother's Watch. All of it had made her feel strange, and she'd turned them down, saying that the Goddess wants her close. The lie, like all of the others, doesn't make her feel much better, and she tells herself that it's for a good cause, to hasten her investigation here so that she can hasten GAIA's restoration.

She doesn't think she can relax enough to sleep in a lodge anyway. Too many people.

So Aloy sleeps in All-Mother's temple, in the same room the Matriarchs had brought her to after the Proving Massacre. It dredges up unwelcome memories, her neck itching, her left hand grasping unconsciously at Rost's bone pendant, and she only gets a few hours of sleep that first night. But she prefers it here nonetheless. The Matriarchs come only sometimes, and though it seems that Teersa has exerted her will enough that the temple is not entirely off-limits to others anymore, Aloy learns, not many take up that offer.

It gives Aloy space, and she's going to sleep better tonight, she thinks. She's been sleeping badly or not sleeping at all for a few days now, but it always has a way of making her crash eventually.

However, when Aloy steps through the Cradle door onto the platform outside, she tenses, readiness chasing sleepiness away. But she blinks, and the features of the shadowy figure kneeling in the center of the candlelit room become apparent. Teersa's head lifts, and her face breaks into a wide smile when she sees Aloy. She begins to climb to her feet, and Aloy hurries down from the platform to assist her.

"Have you been here the whole time?" Aloy asks, as Teersa accepts her hand and rises to her feet, steadying herself on it. Aloy had last seen the High Matriarch a few hours ago, at supper. The issue of mealtime within the temple had been resolved by Teersa bringing her food. It's nice, actually, not having to hunt and prepare and stock up herself, and Teersa has a way of knowing exactly how long to linger without overstaying her welcome. 

Teersa nods. She squeezes Aloy's hand and lets go, shaking her sleeve out. "I remained within the temple to pray. However, I wished to speak with you after you finished your work for the day." She peers intently at Aloy. "You look tired, child. I didn't realize you'd be quite so long. We can speak tomorrow."

Aloy hesitates, then shakes her head. "No, it's fine." She's not going to make Teersa leave after the woman waited hours for her. "Uh... what did you want to talk about?"

Even as she asks, she already knows. The same question in everyone's minds, even if no one voices it - what she's doing in there. However, if there's anyone that Aloy doesn't mind answering it for, it's Teersa, even though she's already wincing at how much she'll have to stretch it into a lie.

She could always tell the truth, as she had yesterday. But this is a different situation, she thinks. Varl has been drawn to Aloy, and by extension her world, for a long time now, ever since she walked into his life. He'd been full of doubt and had wanted answers, no matter what form they took - anything to rid himself of the uncertainty, and so she'd given him the full truth instead of easing him into it. Teersa, on the other hand, overflows with faith and certainty, and Aloy doesn't want to abruptly take that away.

Maybe, in time, she can ease Teersa into it, especially if she can restore GAIA and have them meet, but for now...

"I want to ask how it's coming along," Teersa says. "Before you left, you said that the corruption had not been entirely healed. Have you made any progress with it since?"

Aloy takes a breath, thinking back to the days before she'd left for the Forbidden West months ago. What she'd said to explain her leaving. It reminds her of how long it's been, between the west and GAIA Prime and the other locations, the trips to get there, the toil of everyday survival, and yet, how much progress has she really made? She sighs "Uh... no, not much," she says, trying not to let her face fall. "Not yet."

Teersa sees Aloy's turmoil all too easily. "It is causing you distress."

Aloy sighs again and is disturbed to find that her breath shakes as it leaves her throat. "It's just..." She stops. She hadn't mentioned the extent of her doubts to Varl yet, not wanting to burden him even more, but Teersa is free of the true knowledge of the past and its weight, and her face is open and kind as she waits patiently for Aloy to talk. Aloy does, after she takes a steadying breath. "I have so little to go on. I know what I have to do, but... I don't know if I can find what I need." In time, at least. She has no doubt that if she worked hard enough, she could figure out GAIA Prime without HEPHAESTUS, but that could take years.

She doesn't know if she has years, if the world does. GAIA had said that life would remain in peril without an intact terraforming system, and that had been _before_ the system had fractured even more.

Teersa doesn't answer right away. She considers the words, and her hands come up again, to take Aloy's into her own. Aloy lets her, rather listlessly. "When you went after the killers," Teersa says, "when you discovered that you were meant to face the metal demon, were you certain then?"

Aloy huffs, and once again, her breath shakes. "No," she says. "But... there was always a trail to follow. Even when I didn't understand anything." She knows so much more now, and the trail has gone cold. The solution is not so simple as shoving a weapon into the vessel of an artificial intelligence. "It's not so clear anymore."

Teersa's hands tighten around Aloy's. "The work of a High Matriarch is never clear," she says. "The Goddess does not speak to us as she does to you. We must trust ourselves and trust her will. We are not always right, but the Nora still stand." She smiles. "All-Mother could not see you clearly once, and yet she trusted you to carry out her will."

It gives Aloy pause. She thinks about GAIA's decision, her sacrifice, trusting everything to a throwaway chance, even when it all seemed lost. It's why Aloy lives. It's why the world lives. But Teersa speaks of something else without knowing it, of the Alpha Registry, and Aloy thinks about that, too.

"All-Mother chose you," Teersa continues, and her eyes shine with faith in those words. "Created you to be her hand in this world! And you have shown us all how wise a decision that was. If it was enough then, to kill the metal demon, is it not enough now, to heal the Goddess?"

Aloy's throat tightens. _To heal the world, just a little bit_. She twists a hand so that she can squeeze back, and it takes her several moments to speak. "Thank you, Teersa."

Teersa pats her arm, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles again. Gently, she tugs Aloy towards the entrance of the candlelit chamber. "Come. You need to rest."

* * *

Aloy spends a little more time out of the Cradle after that - with Teersa, with Varl, with Teb, with everyone close enough to Mother's Watch that she regards as a friend. But finally, when she is certain that she can learn nothing more from the facility, she restores what she tore up as best she can and says her goodbyes.

"Meridian," she tells Varl, when he asks where she'll go next in the privacy of Aloy's room in the temple. She shoves provisions, some gathered and hunted by herself and Varl, some offered by others, into a couple of rucksacks that she'll have to carry on her own until she reunites with the sawtooth. "I need to take a look at the Spire." She has a few other things in mind, too, things that have grown and flowered in her thoughts for days now, but she says nothing yet. She's still unsure. Still planning.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Varl asks. He stands not quite at ease, holding his arms uncertainly, as if seized by the impulse to help her pack, but Aloy shoves too quickly and is finished before he can offer.

"Not yet," Aloy says. She stands, absently dusting her hands off. "Just keep practicing with the Focus and keep looking after the tribe like you always do. I promise I'll come back soon," she adds, in response to Varl's expression.

Varl sighs. "Alright," he says. "Just... be careful."

"Hey," Aloy says, in mock offense, "I'm the Anointed, right? Have a little faith."

Varl smiles. He hasn't mentioned the title, and she's noticed. "My apologies, oh Anointed One," he says, eyes sparkling. "Forgive me for such insult."

When Aloy leaves the Embrace, it's with a degree of reluctance, even though her skin has begun to itch more from the Nora's eyes than from the warmth of summer. Part of her wants to turn back and ask Varl to come with her, but she thinks better of it. She doesn't think he's ready to part from the Nora like that. That he's come so far in such a short time... she's asked enough of him, for now.

* * *

The Keeper of the Nora Hunting Grounds emerges from the grazer area to meet Aloy, looking very satisfied, and behind him comes the sawtooth. When it sees Aloy, it bounds up to her, looking more like an overgrown metallic fox kit than a dangerous beast. The comparison had stung before. Now, a laugh is drawn out of her at the sight of it. She pats the sawtooth's neck and looks to the Keeper, arching an eyebrow in a silent question.

"You asked me to report its behavior back to you," the Keeper says. "So I've been testing it. You said it would only attack if others were being hostile. Turns out, it'll also attack on command, as long as you teach it through example. I had it chasing down grazers by signaling it like this." He mimes snapping his fingers, though he doesn't go through with it, mindful of the sawtooth's attention. "I was just working on getting it to herd them without killing them. Still a little rusty there."

Aloy stares at him. "And you weren't worried that it would turn on you?"

The Keeper waves a dismissive hand at the idea. "I trust your work."

Aloy stares a moment longer before shaking her head. "You really went out of your way."

"Not really," the Keeper says. "This is the most entertainment I've had in a while. Since a certain red-haired Seeker beat my trials with full marks, even. I should be thanking you."

Aloy slips the lance off of her back and spins it around so that it rests in her hands. She approaches the Keeper, indicating the device attached to one end; the master override is firmly secured to the other. "That's how I do it," she says. "It's called an override, and it lets me tame machines. I got it from a Corruptor. It's how they would take control of other machines."

The Keepers face darkens at the mention of Corruptors. He examines the override component with interest, but shakes his head. "On second thought, I probably don't want to know more than that."

"Probably not," Aloy agrees, sliding the lance back into place.

* * *

A small herd of chargers stands clustered in a field, and Aloy sticks to the cover of the trees that border the area. She can feel the sawtooth's presence humming behind her, the faint whir of its internal mechanics overly loud in her vigilant awareness. The chargers, however, are unaware of the proximity of danger, and the sawtooth prowls as quietly as Aloy. It doesn't attack docile machines, like her other overridden mounts had often done. Again, she wonders why this one is different. Is it because of HEPHAESTUS? Does it have something to do with the more vicious machine designs that had been waiting for her at the Cauldrons? But why would that affect the sawtooth's overridden state in such a strange way?

It's another mystery on her frustratingly long list of them, one she doesn't have much space for in her head right now.

Aloy looks back at the sawtooth, catches its attention, and points to the chargers, then snaps her fingers.

The sawtooth takes off and barrels at the herd with a speedy precision. It goes right for the closest charger's weakest points, goes for the kill with a deadly intelligence. The other chargers flee, screeching, and a watcher appears, rushing the sawtooth. Aloy plants an arrow in its eye. Then, before the sawtooth can chase after the rest of the herd, Aloy lets loose a whistle.

The sawtooth stops and turns in her direction. Instead of immediately returning to her side, however, it bends down and snaps its jaws around one of the charger's legs. It begins to drag the dead machine in Aloy's direction.

 _Oh, by the way,_ the Keeper had told her, _it got into the habit of bringing me dead animals. Guess it thought it needed to hunt for me._

Aloy emerges from the cover of the trees and whistles again. The sawtooth drops the charger and lopes up to her. She rests a hand against its side, listening to the metallic murmur of its insides, feeling the vibrations against her skin. "What are you?" she murmurs. The creature only gives her a sideways glance, tilting its head at the sound of her voice.

Shaking her head, Aloy grabs a few things from the charger and watcher and retrieves the extra rucksacks from where she'd stashed them in the trees. She ties the rucksacks down near the power cell on the sawtooth's back, then mounts just behind the ridge of its neck.

Too many mysteries, too many problems, and not enough hours in the day to consider them all. But one thing at a time, Aloy thinks, and she turns her thoughts and the sawtooth towards Meridian. Towards a secondary plan slowly taking root in her mind.

* * *

Within All-Mother Mountain, the Cradle begins to hum with life.

It's a gradual process: a creeping flickering of lights, a piecemeal initialization of hardware and interfaces. It doesn't reactivate any long-since executed protocol, doesn't touch the genetic material left within the facility. But eventually, inexorably, the finger of a servitor - death-stiff, having carried no spark of energy or intent for twenty years - uncurls.


	3. Chapter 3

The drier lands that makes up the Sundom's eastern edges give way to green again, jungle that spreads out all the way to Meridian in the distance. The sight and smell of it puts Aloy at ease and calms the rigidity taken root in her muscles after a few unusual and tense machine encounters along the way. She's used to trees, to rich foliage and the even richer life it houses, and the Sundom's forests are so different from the ones back in the Sacred Land. She could spend hours getting lost in them, discovering their wonders.

But faint yelling and clanging roaring drifts down to her ears from somewhere up ahead, and Aloy's muscles snap to attention again. She squeezes her knees, and the sawtooth picks up the pace. She keeps her knees tight and maneuvers the sharpshot bow off of her back, nocking a heavy-tipped tearblast arrow. She holds it in place with a finger, then bends low over the sawtooth's back, urging it to go faster. Trees flash by as they pass through a dense copse, then abruptly open to cleared land and a wide stream. Snapmaws usually cluster around here, Aloy remembers, but it's not snapmaws besieging four Carja soldiers on the other side of the stream.

She and the sawtooth emerge from the trees just in time to see a ravager pin a soldier to the ground with a leap, seconds away from tearing its prey to shreds. Aloy doesn't waste time trying to take stock of everything else, of the entire pack of ravagers cornering the Carja. She straightens and takes half a second to gauge the rise and fall of the sawtooth's gait, a pattern she's been trying to familiarize herself with over the past several days. When the sawtooth's back carries her up a fraction, Aloy lets the arrow loose, and the slight upward movement gives the arrow the arc it needs to strike at the base of the ravager's cannon.

It doesn't entirely knock the cannon loose, nor does it do much damage overall. It distracts the ravager, however, and the machine lifts its head away from the soldier and turns towards Aloy and the sawtooth, snarling.

The sawtooth leaps over the stream in one jump, and Aloy leaps off of its back as soon as it touches down, rolling. She brings herself up and spins around, readying another tearblast arrow even as she finds the ravager she'd hit before. She sends the arrow towards its back, and it lands securely, even as the ravager leaps towards her with another snarl. A moment later, the cannon is blasted off, and the sawtooth tackles the machine to the ground. Aloy slips her bow back around her shoulders and runs forward, sweeping the cannon up and sweeping her eyes across the battle.

Five ravagers, not counting the one her sawtooth is currently wrestling into submission and tearing apart. Six against four, originally, before she'd arrived to even the odds.

Against their own weaponry, the ravagers have far less defense. Aloy empties the energy charges into them methodically, mindful of the soldiers' positions and her sawtooth. The sawtooth doesn't let any of the other machines get close enough to interrupt her, the soldiers add their own efforts, and by the time the cannon has run out of charges, there is only one ravager left standing.

The soldiers finish that one off, one of them driving a spear into its insides. A sparking shudder runs through the machine, and it grinds to a halt, collapsing.

At last, a stillness settles. The soldiers eye the sawtooth uneasily, looking between it and Aloy in wonderment, and she tosses the empty cannon. "It's alright," she says, gesturing to the sawtooth. It trots up to her, and she gets the sense that it's pleased with itself. They're starting to battle in sync, she thinks. "It's mine."

"Machine tamer," one of the soldiers says in awe, and it's not the teasing way that the Keeper had said it. Aloy tries to smother her irritation. It's her own fault for choosing a sawtooth as a mount.

Another soldier steps forward, wearing the emblazon of a squadron captain - the one Aloy's arrow had saved from death. "Thank you, Aloy of the Nora," the captain says, and Aloy realizes that it's a Carja woman. "It seems we in the Sundom continue to owe you."

Aloy shrugs. Her reputation as Aloy, savior of Meridian and their Sun-King, is at least earned, but that doesn't mean she likes it much better than Aloy, Anointed of the Nora. "I wasn't just going to ride past," she says, and she glances down at the ravager bodies scattered over the dusty ground. A pack of ravagers, not where they're supposed to be. And where are the snapmaws? "What happened? Why are these here?"

"I don't know," the captain says. "This has been happening more and more lately. Reports from across the Sundom. Some machines are starting to behave erratically. Abandoning their usual patrol routes, showing different patterns of behavior. Growing worse, as they always do. The roads are becoming more dangerous."

Aloy glances down at the ravager corpses scattered across the dusty ground and recalls the machines that she and the sawtooth had encountered on the way here. How unusual they'd been. Not any more dangerous than they typically are, in terms of brute force, but requiring an adjustment of Aloy's knowledge of machine patterns. Erratic, the captain had said. No longer predictable.

She thinks of Cauldron ZETA, too, and the stormbirds deliberately hovering out of range, as they always do. But _before_ engaging, not after. As if they'd known how to think ahead. Known not to attack her right away.

It's HEPHAESTUS, Aloy thinks, and her sense of urgency grows. It's one thing if HEPHAESTUS is just trying to keep her out of the Cauldrons. It's another if it's spreading further change, further derangement, to the machines it sends out into the world.

She glances back at the copse across the stream, then looks to the captain. "You're patrolling this area?"

The captain nods.

Aloy gestures to the trees. "I'm going to leave my sawtooth in there," she says. She wonders when she got around to thinking of it possessively. "It'll stay put and won't bother you, as long as you don't bother it."

The captain nods again, glancing at the machine that stands at Aloy's side. She doesn't seem fazed by the idea. "I'll tell the rest of my squadron to leave it be."

Aloy finds herself leaving the sawtooth with some reluctance, however. A small pit of worry rests in her stomach as she takes it back into the copse. But there's little she can do about it without taking an extensive detour. The sloping escarpment road that will take her up to the mesa is just ahead, and there are too many people in that area to bring a sawtooth. "Don't pick a fight with anything," she tells it, as she removes a few pouches from the supplies it carries and attaches them to her belt instead. The sawtooth sits beside a tree and stares at her, and Aloy reaches up to pat its snout.

Stupid, she thinks, getting attached to a machine, but they're in this together now. The sawtooth is a clue to HEPHAESTUS's behavior, and she needs a sturdier mount than a strider, anyway.

* * *

Meridian is no longer quite so dazzling to Aloy. She’s seen bigger things, knows the world is much larger than the Sundom, and compared to that, Meridian is merely a point on a map. Its people could not be more different from the Nora, and yet, they’re exactly the same – just as frustrating, boar-headed, and occasionally wonderful. People are like that everywhere, no matter what tribe they belong to.

She’s still not used to the sheer amount in Meridian, however. Its streets are always packed with bodies that jostle for space, and it’s a wonder that anyone can actually get around. Aloy has no use for status, finds it an uncomfortable mantle that draws unwanted attention, but here, when she needs to get things done, she’s grateful that she holds the Sun-King’s favor. It saves her the trouble of trying to muscle her way through Meridian’s crowds.

The guards at the bridge to the mesa are quick about ushering her into the palace when she requests a royal audience, but to her annoyance, she doesn’t miss the looks they throw her when they think her attention is elsewhere. It isn’t the reverence of the Nora, but it’s the same wonder, the same strokes that paint a larger-than-life picture in their minds.

Aloy finds herself waiting on a palace terrace that overlooks the city. The sun is beginning to sink towards the west, painting walls and stalls below in flaming colors, an orange-red that’s so different from the earthy greens of the Sacred Land or the stark grays and whites of the north. The air is hot, but a breeze is ever-present in Meridian, facilitated by its circular design. It’s pleasant, and her irritation fades. It's good to see Meridian healing after the battle for the Spire.

"Aloy," a warm voice says behind her.

The Dowager Queen enters the terrace, the Prince at her heels. It's been a while since Aloy has seen either of them, but it's immediately apparent that they're doing better than they had been in Sunfall. Nasadi is relaxed, almost radiant in the afternoon sun. Itamen clings to Nasadi’s hand, watching Aloy with wide eyes, shy but not frightened.

"I apologize for the wait," Nasadi says, offering Aloy a smile. "I was inspecting stock in the maizelands."

"It's fine," Aloy says. "I didn't meant to interrupt anything." She looks down and flashes a grin at Itamen. "Nice to see you again."

Itamen ducks his head behind his mother, but Aloy catches sight of his fleeting smile.

Nasadi strokes his hair. "Itamen," she says firmly. "Aloy is our guest. It's rude to ignore her."

Itamen peeks out from behind Nasadi. He's more than a year older than the last time Aloy saw him, but he's still so _young_. Aloy's blood boils every time she remembers how the Shadow Carja had been using him. "Hello," he says shyly, and he doesn't emerge any further.

"He's a little in awe of you," Nasadi says, with a tiny smile on her face as she looks back up at Aloy. "He'll come around. You're here to see Avad, yes? He's at the south estates right now, meeting with some of the landowners. He should return by tomorrow. You're welcome to stay here in the palace to wait for him." The discomfort on Aloy's face must be obvious, because Nasadi amends the statement. "I believe he's also kept the apartment you used before empty, if you'd prefer to wait there." Nasadi smooths a crease in her sheath dress. "Unless it's something I can help you with?"

"Ah, no," Aloy says apologetically. "Thank you, though." Nasadi nods, and Aloy places her hands on her hips, frowning. "Why doesn't Avad just make the landowners come here? Is the effort too much for them?"

The disdainful comment slips out before she can stop it, but Nasadi laughs. "They would certainly complain if he did," she says. "But no, it's deliberate. The Sun-King goes out of his way to accommodate them, and it puts a little more of an onus on them to bend to his demands. A means of leverage that isn't force. They're discussing taxes, so he needs all the leverage he can get."

Aloy scowls. She's heard a tipsy rant from Erend about Carja nobles and taxes. "Sounds fun."

"Indeed," Nasadi agrees. She smooths the same crease in her dress. "I do wish that you would wait here, in the palace," she says, somewhat hesitantly. "I haven't gotten the chance to truly thank you for what you did for us. The least I can do is offer you our hospitality."

"You don't have to do that," Aloy says. "Any decent person would have helped."

Nasadi frowns at her. "Not many people would face a thunderjaw for strangers," she says, and Aloy gets the feeling that she is being gently chided.

Aloy shrugs and lets a wry grin cross her face. "After your third or fourth thunderjaw, they stop being impressive."

Nasadi shakes her head, pursing her lips in disbelief. "That is the very definition of impressive."

"Did you really kill the Buried Shadow?" Itamen bursts out, nearly stumbling from his hiding place behind his mother.

Aloy hesitates, glancing up at Nasadi to make sure that his mother is alright with her trying to explain this. Itamen deserves to know part of the reason why the Shadow Carja had used him, and Nasadi seems to agree, because she nods. So Aloy crouches down to be at eye level with Itamen. He edges further out from behind Nasadi, eyes wide. "What the Shadow Carja were following wasn't the Buried Shadow," Aloy says gently. "It was... a very intelligent and bad machine pretending to be the Buried Shadow, so that they would obey it. It was lying. But yes, I did kill it."

Itamen stares at her, rapt. "Do you really ride machines? I heard the Vanguards saying you rode a sawtooth here."

Aloy is really beginning to wonder how rumors travel so fast. She could use some of that speed in her own journeys. "I did," she says and bites back a smile, aware of Nasadi shaking her head and muttering something about impressiveness.

"May I ride it?" Itamen asks, swiveling around to look up at his mother. "May I, Mother?"

It takes effort for Aloy to hold back a laugh. Nasadi’s mouth opens, though no words leave. It’s clear that her knee-jerk reaction is to protest, but something stops her. She takes a breath, then gives Aloy a searching look. "Is it safe?"

"Perfectly," Aloy says. "It only attacks things that threaten me."

Nasadi closes her eyes for a moment, as if steeling herself. "You have to ask Aloy," she tells Itamen. "It's her machine."

Itamen's swivels a little more slowly, nervously, back to Aloy. "May I?"

It takes all of Aloy's willpower to keep her face straight. She has to admit, she's surprised at the question. Itamen seems so shy, not like the type of child who'd be drawn to machines. But his pleading eyes chip away at her own reservations, better than an Oseram cannon could. Not that she really minds. It'll take a trek back the way she came and a roundabout trip, to retrieve the sawtooth and bring it closer to Meridian, but it's better than lounging around waiting. "Sure," she says. "As long as your mother is okay with it."

Nasadi’s mouth draws into a thin line, but she nods.

* * *

Aloy and the sawtooth take a winding path that lets them avoid more densely populated areas, and by the time they reach the place at the edge of the maizelands where Nasadi had told her to meet them, it’s nearly evening. Light shines from the west, its rays flaring through trees and catching the edges of promontories and mesas in the distance. It glistens on the newly restored fields that spread out before her, vast expanses of land that feed hundreds and hundreds of people.

Not so long ago, half of the maizelands had been nothing but a smoking, charred ruin of plant life, rows churned up by machine claws, watered with blood instead of the river. But Carja farmers work diligently, and though some fields are still barren and Aloy can tell which sections of the maizelands suffered the most, she knows that the place is at last settling back into a routine. That the Carja no longer have to worry quite so much about food shortages, though it'll be a few years before every crop is fully restored.

A fleet of Vanguards and Carja soldiers waits with the Dowager Queen and the Prince. Aloy isn’t surprised that such heavy protection follows them wherever they go. Even though the civil war is officially over, the defeat of Helis and HADES hadn’t been enough to dissolve every Shadow Carja splinter group that had broken off afterward; she'd heard that from listening to the guards. But the many pairs of eyes that fixate on her make her twitch.

However, someone else is present, standing beside Nasadi, and Aloy forgets about the unwanted attention. Vanasha smiles at her, an eyebrow raised in admiration as she watches Aloy ride up on the sawtooth. In contrast, Itamen's eyes are huge, and he hovers close to his mother, who watches with unease. Aloy stop a few feet away, and as she dismounts, the sawtooth regards the gathered humans with mild interest, while some of the soldiers eye it with much more alarm.

"Decided to come see the show?" Aloy asks Vanasha, stepping forward and grinning.

"Well, when Nasadi told me that the Scourge of Shadow was going to demonstrate how she rides a tamed sawtooth," Vanasha says with a wink, "I couldn’t resist."

Aloy frowns. "The what?"

"That's what they're calling you, among other things," Vanasha says. "Seeing as how you're the bane of the Carja in Shadow and such. We love to give things grand names."

"Great," Aloy says flatly. "I love titles." Vanasha laughs, and Aloy discovers that she's missed the sound of it. "It's good to see you," she says.

"And you," Vanasha says. "It's been a long time since you've been in Meridian." It's only slightly accusing, and Aloy tries not to flinch. "But you're a busy woman, aren't you?"

Aloy nods, tries to think of something to say, and fails. She turns her attention to Nasadi and Itamen instead, but she can feel Vanasha's eyes on her. "Still okay with this?" she asks Nasadi. The woman nods, and Aloy wants to prod further, figure out her motivations when she’s clearly not as okay with it as she indicates, but she leaves it be and turns to Itamen. "Ready?"

He hesitates. With the sawtooth in plain view, he looks frightened.

"It's okay if you don't want to do this anymore," Aloy tells him.

But Itamen is determined, and it takes a little maneuvering and squeezing to get them both onto the sawtooth's back. It's one thing for Aloy to mount the large machine, when she's been climbing since she could walk, and another to hoist herself up with a nervous child in tow. The sawtooth is built for combat, and as such, there's not much in the way of comfortable riding space. But Itamen is small, and the space between the sawtooth's neck ridge and antennas is just big enough to fit them both.

Once Aloy has a firm hold on the boy, she taps the sawtooth's sides with the heels of her boots, and it breaks into a loping little run. It's a bit harder to guide the creature with her arms occupied by holding Itamen steady, but she manages, and they circle the area several times, to Itamen's increasing delight. He even lets out a whoop at one point.

Aloy smiles as she listens to him. He's been so shy and withdrawn, from what she's seen, and the change is heartening. She wonders if that's why Nasadi is putting up with this.

"Have you given it a name?" Vanasha calls out, as they circle near her and Nasadi.

Aloy turns a knee inward, directs the sawtooth to turn around, and they spin to face the two women. Itamen giggles at the sudden movement. "No," she says with a roll of her eyes, abruptly reminded of Nil.

"Why not?" Vanasha asks. Her arms are folded, and her eyes glitter with amusement. "A noble mount deserves a name. Itamen, help us think of one."

Itamen’s suggestions, as Aloy takes them in slower, tighter circles, are all things that are appealing to little boys, things that have Vanasha in stitches and Aloy struggling not to let her laughter upset her balance. Even Nasadi cracks a smile, looking more relaxed. "What about... Scourge?" Vanasha suggests at last, her grin holding a wicked edge, when Aloy has paused to give her legs a rest.

Aloy rolls her eyes again. " _No_ ," she says, but it’s drowned out by Itamen repeating the name happily.

"Oh, please, Aloy," he says. "It’s perfect!"

"The Prince commands it," Vanasha says gravely, eyes twinkling.

Aloy gets the sawtooth to sit with a tap. "Alright," she says in exaggerated defeat, helping Itamen to climb off. "Looks like I’m outnumbered. Scourge it is." She shoots Vanasha a sardonic look. "You’re terrible."

"I try," Vanasha says, offering a sweeping bow.

* * *

Aloy leaves Scourge in the trees outside of the maizelands as dusk slips into night. She tries out the name a couple of times, as ridiculous as it sounds, but she can’t tell whether the sawtooth recognizes it as a name or not. It does pay attention to her when she speaks, looking alert, so maybe that’s something. Afterward, her feet draw her back to the palace on Nasadi’s invitation, rather than to Olin’s apartment. One of Nasadi's handmaidens waits for her in a foyer and takes her to the Dowager Queen's chambers, where Nasadi and Vanasha speak quietly, seated on pillows.

Nasadi stands up at once as Aloy enters, moving forward and taking Aloy’s hands in her own. "Thank you," she says. "It’s not often that I see him so happy. He has been especially frightened of machines, since Helis..." Nasadi falls silent. "Since Sunfall. But he wants to be brave like you. He was thrilled to spend time with his hero."

Aloy is sure that her face must be bright red, if the flushed feeling and Vanasha’s smile is anything to go by. "I was happy to do it," she says, hoping that she doesn’t sound as awkward as she feels. "He’s a good kid."

"And thank you for explaining the Buried Shadow to him," Nasadi says. "We’ve tried, but I think hearing it from you dispelled his lingering confusion." Aloy nods, and she stiffens when Nasadi tugs her into the room. "Vanasha wants to ask you about your purpose here," Nasadi explains, indicating that Aloy should sit on the pillows with them.

Hesitantly, Aloy does so. The pillows feel strange beneath her, unused to such softness as she is, but by now she’s used to being privy to important people’s business the world over, and she looks to Vanasha. "What do you want to know?"

Vanasha sits languidly atop her own collection of pillows, and if Aloy didn’t know any better, she’d say that the woman was utterly relaxed. But Aloy knows Vanasha enough by now to see the well-hidden signs of vigilance, of depth that is purposefully obfuscated by the charming act Vanasha puts on. "I want to know if you being here means trouble," Vanasha says, giving Aloy a look that seems capable of seeing right through her. "Not that I don’t thoroughly enjoy your presence, but trouble follows you, huntress. You told the gate guards that it was urgent."

"I told them that so they’d hurry up," Aloy says frankly.

Nasadi snorts into her hand, and Vanasha laughs outright. "I don’t doubt it," Vanasha says, amused. "But I do need to know if there’s any truth to that urgency."

Aloy eyes her curiously. "It's important," she says after a moment, considering her words, "but it shouldn't have anything to do with trouble yet." Except, perhaps, for the recent changes in the machines, tangentially at least. But neither she nor Vanasha can do anything about that until she gets a look at the Spire. "I'll let you know when it does."

Vanasha relaxes infinitesimally. "Alright," she says. "I’ll hold you to that."

"Is something wrong?" Aloy asks, wondering at the motive.

It’s Nasadi who answers, smiling rather proudly. "Vanasha is Avad’s spymaster now."

Aloy raises an eyebrow and looks back at Vanasha. "Congratulations on the promotion. It’s well-deserved."

"I know," Vanasha says breezily, though there's still something in her posture that isn't quite settled.

Aloy smiles. "Did something happen to the last one?"

Vanasha's pleasant expression slips for a moment, something darker flitting across her face. "He died."

Aloy nods and doesn't press, noting the way that Vanasha has stilled. "You know, I always assumed that kind of job was Marad's."

"That's what most people think. And that's why he isn't  _the_ spymaster," Vanasha says. The stillness leaves her, and she stretches a little, giving Aloy a very direct look. "The Sun-King's right hand is a little too conspicuous, unlike a simple handmaiden. He's still vital to our operations, but in a more... removed manner."

Aloy recognizes the look and the note of finality in Vanasha's voice and doesn't pry further, mindful of how much Vanasha has willingly given her already. Mindful of what it means, that Nasadi and Vanasha invite her into the depths of the palace and give her access to court secrets. It's bribery, she thinks, on Vanasha's part, but it isn't a bribe she would offer to just anyone.

Vanasha gives her another smile, a playful edge to it. "Take heart, little huntress: the fact that I’m speaking to you directly rather than just spying on you is a sign of my favor."

A sign of her trust, is the real meaning behind the words, and Aloy warms at it. She doesn't offer anything further about her purpose there, but perhaps Vanasha sees something of Aloy's intent in her face, because she moves on to another, lighter topic - giving Aloy a rundown of all of the most scandalous happenings in the Sundom while Aloy's been away, with some disapproving input from Nasadi.

Aloy's thoughts return once again to her reasons for being here as the three of them fall into more casual conversation. She needs people that she trusts in turn, and Vanasha is certainly on that list. But Aloy wants to talk to Avad first, get access to the Spire so that she can set to work. After that, well... she knows where to find Vanasha.

* * *

It’s mid-morning when Aloy receives an invitation to join Avad. She’s been up for a while, unable to sleep in on the too-soft beds in the chambers Nasadi had given her. The Dowager Queen had been determined to provide Aloy with every bit of hospitality she could as thanks for her assistance in escaping Sunfall, and Aloy hadn't had the heart to turn her down.

As it turns out, she doesn't mind as much as she thinks she will. The beds are too soft, and the food is too rich, but the rooms are big and empty, and Aloy doesn't feel suffocated in the way she does in the streets of Meridian or in a Nora lodge. Itamen finds her that morning and spends an hour asking her endless questions, fully out of his timid shell, and Aloy finds his company so endearing that she forgets about her bad night’s sleep. She’s almost as disappointed as he is when he’s called away for lessons.

She’s in the middle of restringing her sharpshot bow, left to her own company with Nasadi and Vanasha both occupied by their lives, when an attendant appears at the door.

"The Sun-King is available to see you," the attendant says. "Please follow me."

Aloy had been expecting it; Nasadi had received word of Avad’s return a few hours ago. But she’s surprised that the summons has come so quickly, considering how busy Avad always is.

She follows the attendant through the palace, all the way up to one of the shaded areas of the Solarium. Avad is seated at a table, head bent over a scroll, looking exhausted and irritated. He looks up as Aloy and the attendant enter, and the irritation vanishes, replaced by a tired smile. "Aloy," he says, standing. "Welcome." He nods to the attendant. "Thank you, Tharas."

"Will you be needing anything?" the attendant asks.

Avad glances at Aloy. "I’m not sure how long this will take, so perhaps some food?"

"It might take a while," Aloy says, somewhat apologetically. 

"That’s fine," Avad says. "I welcome anything that will slow down my day. Tharas, a light meal for both of us, please? Something cold."

The attendant nods and departs, and Avad gestures for Aloy to sit across from him at the table. He takes his seat again and shoves the scrolls in front of him aside, rather unceremoniously, as Aloy seats herself on the bench. "I’m sorry for the wait," he says.

"It wasn't that long," Aloy says, eyeing him sympathetically. "Rough time?"

Avad sighs deeply. "Landowners," he says. "I would trade all of the shards in the world to never have to listen to them again."

“Did you win?”

"I think so," Avad says. "The pressure I put on them was not insignificant. But I don’t want to bore you with that. You lead a much more interesting life than I do. I hear you gave Itamen a ride on an oddly-named sawtooth?"

"Scourge," Aloy says. She'd almost forgotten about that part. "You can blame Vanasha and your brother for its new name. I think he enjoyed himself."

"He won’t stop talking about it," Avad says. "Or you, for that matter. You’ve made quite the impression on him. I’m glad he has someone like you to look up to." He doesn’t give Aloy time to stumble through an awkward response to the compliment. He leans forward a little, resting his arms on the table, and gives her a curious look. "I've been told you have something important you want to discuss with me."

Aloy takes a breath, trying to pull her thoughts together. She’s been ruminating on this for a while, since she took Varl into the ELEUTHIA-9 Cradle, and yet, when it comes down to it, it’s hard to know where to start. There’s just so much to tell, so much that the world doesn’t know. "I..." she begins, then stops, clears her throat, and starts again, "I need to ask a favor of you. It's about everything that happened with HADES. It involves knowing the truth about all of that and, well, safeguarding it."

Avad considers this for a moment. "Safeguarding the truth," he muses. "I'm assuming it's a dangerous one?"

"It can be," Aloy says, "in the wrong hands. It's... a powerful one."

So she ceases stalling and tells him – the truth of the Old Ones and their downfall, the origin of the false Buried Shadow that had nearly torn his Sundom apart, her own origins and how they’d played a part. For a second time, the truth spills out of her, and it's as relieving as it was the first time. She speaks as simply as she can, getting at the gist of it, but she shifts the focus somewhat, this time. It has a purpose that isn't merely sharing, unburdening.

Avad doesn’t look particularly surprised at the horrors she relates. He looks troubled, to be sure. But not surprised.

Finally, when Aloy feels that she’s covered enough to have a conversation, she stops, her throat as tired as when she’d told Varl all the same things. By this time, Tharas has brought the meals that Avad had requested, and she downs half a bowl of some kind of fruit juice in one gulp.

Avad stares at a point on the table, frowning, and Aloy watches him and tries to read him. Varl had been shaking after she told him the story. Aloy herself had needed some time to get used to it all, enough to be able to view each new holo without feeling viscerally upset. But Avad, she supposes, is already at the point she's reached, has already seen one too many atrocities to be overly disturbed by a secondhand account of even more. She restrains her curiosity and says nothing, waiting.

"You said you're trying to bring this GAIA back," Avad says at last, looking up and meeting Aloy’s gaze. "Is that why you've come to me?"

Right down to business, then. Aloy appreciates it. "Sort of," she says. "I don’t know how long it will take to restore her, and most of her sub-functions are still out there somewhere. I don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t even know what GAIA needs to do to stabilize the terraforming system, and I can’t know until I ask her. So I need to make sure that Zero Dawn will have people to look after it, if something happens to me. If I die before restoring her... maybe things will be fine, but I can’t put my faith in a maybe."

Adding Varl to the Alpha Registry had lingered with her. The machine encounters had lingered with her, furthered her resolve. Aloy has survived much, is entirely capable of surviving more, but all it takes is one mistake, one factor tipping the scales against her for one second. Especially when she's sure that HEPHAESTUS, at least, is actively malicious at this point.

Avad laces his fingers together. "You want the project to have stewards besides yourself."

Aloy nods. "Exactly. There’s this... thing called the Alpha Registry. It’s a security measure, and it protects the project. It recognizes people based on what they’re physically made out of, and if you match its records, you can open the doors to Zero Dawn and give it commands. It's why I could stop HADES. I was the only living person the Alpha Registry would recognize, until recently. I took Varl... my friend..."

"I remember him," Avad says. "He was one of the Nora who came to defend the city."

Aloy nods again, a little surprised at his memory for it. They'd hardly met, the Nora braves eager to leave the Sundom even as Avad tried to thank them after the battle. "I took him into a Zero Dawn facility, and I added him to the Alpha Registry. I didn't even know I could do that until then. It's... opened up some possibilities." She takes a breath. "The Alphas, they completed Zero Dawn before they died. Once I revive GAIA, she should be able to handle things. So I don't need scholars to have access to it. I need people I can trust." She fixes Avad with a pointed look.

Avad's brows furrow; his usual composure slips, and he appears taken aback. "And you came to me?"

"You overthrew your father and made something better out of his mess," Aloy points out. Zero Dawn is power, and she has to be sure that its power goes into the hands of people who can be trusted not to abuse it. Into the hands of people who can make good decisions. And hard decisions and strategic decisions and mechanical decisions, but all of that is responsibility she wants to spread out between several people with different skill sets, so that no one person has to shoulder it alone. "I think that makes you pretty trustworthy."

Avad nods, but it seems he likes praise about as much as Aloy, a slight discomfort evident in his otherwise composed mask. "Thank you," he says. "I’m honored."

"And I'm asking, not demanding," Aloy adds. "I know you have a lot of responsibilities."

"This one will be relatively minor compared to most of them, as long as you’re alive. You seem more than capable of staying that way." Avad takes a breath, leans back, and unlaces his fingers. "I'm happy to do this for you, Aloy. As I told you once, you can always count on my aid."

Tension had knotted Aloy's shoulders while relaying the story of the Faro Plague, of Zero Dawn, and she feels some of it depart. "Thank you," she says, releasing a breath, and she turns her thoughts to the other topic at hand. "I also need the Spire." She wants to assess its transmission abilities, see if it's possible to use it for more than just sending and receiving signals. If she can use it to _find_ signals, including ones that are apparently masking themselves. "I want to study how it works. The object that HADES was using to transport himself, do you remember it?" Avad nods. "What happened to it?"

"I had it secured," Avad says. "Some scholars have attempted to study it and uncover its secrets, but they had no luck."

Aloy relaxes. Good. That'll speed things up. "I might need it. I think I can use it to add you and some others to the Registry, if you don't mind making a trip there."

"That can be arranged. How does tomorrow morning sound?"

"Sounds perfect," Aloy says. She'd been expecting a longer wait, but beneath his somewhat inscrutable exterior, Avad is downright eager, she can tell. Maybe it'll be a nice change of pace for him. "I know you tend to have a lot of guards when you go out, but..."

"You don’t want an audience?" Avad says knowingly, and Aloy shakes her head. "I understand. Vanasha will be able to arrange for secrecy, and I will make sure the Spire is off-limits to others tomorrow. Marad and Erend won't approve, though."

"They'll live," Aloy says with half a grin.

"Erend will want to accompany me," Avad says, matching it. "Vanasha might, too. Would you be comfortable with that?"

"They're actually some of the people I had in mind," Aloy says. "I could meet with them today, explain everything, see if they're willing to be a part of this."

"I can let them know that you want to talk to them, relieve them of duties if necessary," Avad offers.

It's almost odd, not having to do every little thing herself. Aloy puts some feeling into her voice. "Thank you, Avad. For all of this."

"After everything you’ve done for us?" Avad says. "This is truly the least I can do."

Aloy looks down and digs into the pouch at her side. Several Focuses brush up against her fingers, taken from the cache in ELEUTHIA-9. "You'll need this for tomorrow," she says, pulling out a Focus and handing it to him. She demonstrates how to attach it and use it and explains its basic functions, then watches in amusement as Avad seems to forget that he has surroundings at all, entranced by the Focus display.

He studies it for some time, and Aloy turns her attention to the bowls in front of her. Her immediate resistance to palace food is overcome by the sight of what's in them, which she hasn't taken stock of until now. It’s mostly fruit dishes, which look nice and cool and are suddenly, overpoweringly attractive when she realizes just how hot it is.

The Carja don’t use knives and spoons for meals like the Nora do. They eat with their hands and use water bowls to maintain cleanliness, and Aloy doesn’t understand it very much. But it’s tradition, she supposes, and she’s used to it by now. She sets to work on a dish and watches Avad practice with the Focus.

Finally, he turns it off, but his delight fades. He removes the Focus from his ear and holds it between his fingers, turning it over and over. "The Old Ones made such incredible strides," he says. There is genuine sorrow in the words. "It’s a shame that - what did you call it? APOLLO?" Aloy nods, and Avad drops his eyes to the Focus again, frowning. "A shame that part of Zero Dawn was lost. We could have learned so much." It’s not said with the same thirst that Sylens had displayed. It’s something closer to Aloy's own sorrow, she thinks – mourning lost possibilities, things that may have made lives easier.

Avad sets the Focus aside and turns to his own meal, and they eat in companionable silence for a while. Aloy tries to steal surreptitious glances at Avad, though she thinks he's aware and politely ignoring it. Aloy takes a bite, frowns thoughtfully, and swallows, considering how he'd taken it all in stride. And perhaps seen it all before, in one form or another. His job can't be easy.

"Do you ever wish you could just quit?" Aloy blurts out, not quite able to stop herself. Even though she’s seen enough out of life for a few lifetimes at this point, she can’t temper a natural curiosity that rears its head every time she meets someone - a leftover tendency from an outcast’s childhood. She’s wondered this many times around Avad. "I mean, give up being the Sun-King, do whatever you want?"

Avad looks up. His hand hovers in mid-air above his water bowl, the only sign that she’s caught him off-guard. In hindsight, Aloy considers, the question probably seems like it came out of nowhere. "Do you?"

"I..." Aloy comes to a full stop. Does she? She’s spent every moment since the Proving seeking answers and stopping HADES and searching for the means to restore GAIA. What _would_ she do, if she quit, tried to shrug off her origin and its demands? Settle down? Even though the thought of a never-ending quest is exhausting, the thought of settling down makes her nose wrinkle. She doesn't know what she feels about the former, but the latter? "No. I'm good right now."

The ghost of a smile is present on Avad’s face. "You do lead an exceptional life," he says, rather wistfully, and that answers Aloy's question on its own. He leans back and stares at the same point on the table as before. "I'd like nothing better than to abdicate. I've never fit into this life very well." A short, bitter laugh escapes him. Aloy has never heard anything like it out of him before, and she stares. "My father liked to remind me of that often."

Aloy sternly clamps down on her curiosity and doesn't let any questions about his late father get out.

"But I can't," Avad continues. "Not yet. I am... I suppose you could call it a focal point, for the nobles and Sun-Priests to rally around, even if some of them don't like me very much. It keeps a tenuous alliance in place. If I took Itamen and fled, that would dissolve, and it would leave a power vacuum, one without precedent. The nobles, the Sun-Priests, what's left of the Shadow Carja... they would all rush to fill it, and it would be the people who'd suffer from whatever violence that brought about. They are already living in a land destabilized by revolution and civil war. It's my duty to see that revolution through, to try to hold out long enough to install a better system of leadership for them. I would like to be the _last_ Sun-King, if possible, without setting off yet another war. But pushing change through takes time."

Aloy’s eyes widen. From what she knows of the intertwining of Carja politics and religion, the admittance is tantamount to blasphemy. She also knows that it's a sign of Avad's trust, that he's saying all of this to her. "I'm guessing the Sun-Priests don't know about your intentions."

Avad lets out a huff. "Not many do." He grimaces. "I'm... not very devout. Not the best trait for a Sun-King to have."

"Not very or not at all?" Aloy asks, oddly warmed by the confession.

He gives her a knowing look. "Are you asking from experience?"

"The Nora see me as their Anointed," Aloy says, "and I'm probably the worst person for that position."

"Far from it," Avad says. "You don't use it to take advantage of them, do you?"

"I hope not." Aloy thinks of her requests that outcasts be welcomed back into the tribe and that the practice be limited, that people be allowed to come and go from the Sacred Land as they please, framed as the will of the Goddess. "I've tried to use it to make things better for people."

"As have I," Avad says. "Mostly to deflect protests when I appoint people by merit, rather than blood or gender. Or when I tell landowners to give what they owe to the people. But sometimes it's hard to know where to draw the line, isn't it?"

It's Aloy's turn to fixate on a point on the table, and she stares down at her drinking bowl. It had never occurred to her that there was someone else out there who could understand this kind of concern. Maybe because she'd mostly shown up at his home in the past to foil assassins or bring news of impending attack. "It is." She lifts the bowl and tilts it in Avad's direction – an Oseram salute. "To being heretics."

Avad laughs, genuine and unguarded. It's a sight that Aloy hasn't really seen before either, and it suits him a lot better than the composure he usually wraps himself in. Shaking his head, the Sun-King raises his bowl to her and returns the salute.


	4. Chapter 4

The boar roots the ground, unaware of the threat that crouches nearby, of the way it glows orange through Varl’s Focus sight. Varl’s grip on his bow is firm, unyielding, steady with a hunter’s patience, but his mind is elsewhere, marveling at the fact that the creature is visible through tree and bramble.

 _Boar,_ the Focus had told him, etching the word across the air in script made of light. Varl had swept it away as it tried give him further definition, cleared his Focus sight with a wave of his hand. He’s still not used to that. To any of this.

The boar snorts and shifts, finding nothing of interest, stepping forward into Varl's natural view. He turns the Focus off and gives his eyes a moment to adjust to his real sight. As useful as the device is, he prefers to make his kills the natural way. A hand pulls bowstring taut, and he takes a breath.

"Varl!"

The boar starts and darts forward in alarm. Varl releases the arrow, but it glances off the tough skin of the boar's hind leg, not enough to bring it down. The animal stumbles and vanishes over a crest in the land, and despite the urge to follow and finish the kill, so as not to leave the animal with an injury, Varl puts it out of his mind, rising to his feet. Someone is yelling his name, and he can't tell if it's in excitement or panic, but it puts him on edge immediately.

He turns to find Ilana bolting towards him through the trees as fast as her legs can carry her. Varl quickly unclips the Focus from his ear and shoves it into a belt pouch. He’s mostly kept it out of sight, not as comfortable with wearing it around other Nora as Aloy is, only pulling it out to practice using it in secret and to hunt.

“Varl!” Ilana says again and nearly tumbles over as she careens to a halt. Varl steadies her and tries to read her expression as his nerves flare again. He's been on edge since Meridian, expecting something, anything to go wrong, even though things have been blessedly quiet. Aloy's visit hadn’t helped. The thing she'd shown him, told him... they’re incredible and dangerous and taboo, and according to her, HADES hadn't been the end of it.

It's clearly not important enough for Ilana to immediately get it out, however, and Varl relaxes somewhat as she holds up a finger and then bends forward with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"We've been... looking everywhere for you!" she says, between gulps of air.

"What is it?" Varl asks, as patiently as he can. "Has something happened?"

Ilana nods frantically, but she doesn't seem afraid. Overeager as usual, but that's most of the newest braves, Varl thinks, and amusement eases some of Varl's worries. "All-Mother!" she says, and Varl's amusement vanishes. "She asked for you!"

The sounds of the woods, the feel of summer air on Varl's skin, it all vanishes from Varl's awareness. His head is suddenly full of his trip into the heart of the All-Mother Mountain with Aloy. She'd shown him what All-Mother really is – some kind of once-living facility left behind by the real Goddess and the Old Ones. Made of machines, and yet it had seemed like more than that, to Varl. How could machines have created humans, how could GAIA have revived the world, unless there had been something more within them?

He remembers the facility, cold and mostly dead, a remnant of something that Aloy is trying to restore.

It's _asking_ for him?

"Wait – what, _exactly_ , happened?" Varl demands.

"I didn't see it, but Narn told me, and he got it straight from the High Matriarchs. All-Mother's heart opened, and a voice spoke! It was All-Mother asking for your presence!" Ilana's eyes are shining. "You have to go to Mother's Watch right away!"

Varl thanks her and takes off at a run.

* * *

Aloy finds Erend in the tavern adjacent to the palace, one meant for off-duty soldiers and palace staff. It's not particularly busy at the moment, midday break already come and gone, but a few soldiers and servants with less usual routines lounge about nonetheless. Erend is at a table by himself, waiting for her, and some of the other off-duty Vanguards nearby snicker when Aloy approaches Erend's table. She ignores them.

"Really? Afternoon drinking?" she asks, smiling.

Erend looks up and grins. He stands and sweeps Aloy up into hug that's only slightly crushing, nearly lifting her off of her feet. He's just as big and warm as she remembers, and she doesn't mind. It's been too long, she thinks with a twinge. Too long since she's really sat down with all of these people who'd fought by her side and offered her a place, if she wished. She's made some strides in rectifying that in these past few weeks, but Erend's tight hug brings the stark guilt out once again.

"Only one," Erend says, as he pulls back. "And it was watered down." He snorts. "Trust me, it's necessary. I don't know how Avad talks to those idiot nobles without losing it."

He gestures for Aloy to sit, but she shakes her head. "Could we take a walk?" she asks, with a pointed glance at the other patrons.

With a curious look, Erend agrees, and they exit the tavern. "So, a sawtooth?" the man asks, as the door swings shut behind them.

Aloy rolls her eyes. It’s most definitely her own fault, for choosing a sawtooth as a mount.

They take to the streets of Meridian, which are much easier to navigate with Erend’s larger frame clearing a path. Heat simmers off of the stone streets, carried on the wind, and dozens of smells and sounds assault Aloy’s senses all at once – the rumble of hundreds of voices interspersed with merchants trying to hawk their wares at her and the pungent scent of bodies inhabiting an enclosed space in the height of summer. She lets Erend do the talking, and he speaks casually of events in his corner of the Sundom since Aloy has been away, of his work as the Captain of the Vanguard, of Carja soldiers fully integrating women into their ranks at last despite resistance.

"I'd pick you to watch my back over a hundred of those guys any day," Erend says dismissively, as they reach the destination Aloy had in mind.

She smiles and produces a key, unlocking the door to Olin's apartment. Her apartment now, she supposes. _It’s yours whenever you have need of it,_ Avad had told her, and Marad had given her the key. She wonders how Olin and his family are doing, if they're happy.

The inside is as just as she remembers – not excessively furnished, but comfortable. Aloy breathes in dust, and memory tickles the back of her throat. Breaking in, looking for answers. How small the world had been then. She closes and locks the door behind her as Erend takes a few steps into the room, eyes sweeping the area. Seeing memories too, Aloy thinks. "Avad wouldn’t tell me what it is you want to talk about," he says, turning to face her as soon as he hears the door lock. "Said it was yours to tell. I’m not in trouble, am I?" he adds, teasing.

"The opposite, I think," Aloy says. "I have a favor to ask." She's been asking a lot of those lately.

They seat themselves on the bench that lines the wall opposite the door. Erend leans back against the wall, but his body is angled to face her, entirely attentive. Aloy draws a leg up under her so that she sits sideways, facing him similarly. She hesitates, then pulls another Focus out of her pouch full of them. She offers it to Erend, and his eyebrows shoot up.

"That's... like yours," he says.

"You were so amazed by my second sight," Aloy says. "It's not fair to keep it all to myself."

Erend takes the device from her – tentatively, gently, as if scared he'll break it. "You're giving this to me?" He frowns and inspects the Focus. "Seems more like you're doing me a favor."

"It has a purpose," Aloy says. "It's kind of a long story."

"I have the afternoon off," Erend says, wrapping his fingers around the Focus carefully and lowering his hand into his lap.

So, for the third time, Aloy lets the truth free. It flows easily now, even out of her tired throat, with structure and turns of phrase she's practiced at this point. Like a story.

Erend's shock is palpable. He wears his emotions visibly, like Varl, and it radiates off of him like ripples in a pond. The tale is interspersed with the many questions he asks, so that it takes longer to tell, but Aloy knows that talking takes the edge off of things for him as much as drinking does. She doesn't protest the interruptions. When she is finally finished, Erend opens his hand and stares at the Focus again. "I don't know what to say." His voice is uncharacteristically quiet. "You... that's what you were dealing with when you were helping us out?"

Aloy shrugs. "It came together a lot more slowly for me. Sorry for dropping it on you all at once."

Erend shakes his head. "I... of course I'll do it." Despite his shock, he says it firmly, without a trace of hesitation. "It's just a lot to take in." He rubs a hand over his face, blinking rapidly and staring at the floor, then looks up at her again. "That was really gonna happen again? The world getting... what, _eaten_?"

"Yeah," Aloy says. "If we hadn't stopped HADES..."

Erend shudders. "You know, I'm glad I didn't know that when we were fighting. Not the extent of it, anyway." He goes quiet, and Aloy says nothing, letting him process things. He keeps looking between the Focus, the floor, and Aloy, until, abruptly: "Why me? I know you said you trust me," he falters for a moment, looking self-consciously pleased, "but... I'm not... I'm just me. You said the Alphas were like scholars. Thinkers. I'm more of a brawler, really."

"Zero Dawn doesn't need scholars anymore," Aloy says. She does want to make sure that her recruiting includes the Oseram talent for tinkering at some point, in case it becomes necessary, but that's going to require a trip to Free Heap. "It needs people who won't use it for the wrong reasons. People to protect it. That's your job, isn't it?"

Erend nods, though he doesn't look entirely at ease.

"It's just a precaution," Aloy continues. "Hopefully it stays a precaution. But if something happens to me... I've added Varl to the Registry already, I've asked Avad, I'm going to ask Vanasha. I want to ask Petra Forgewoman and Talanah Khane Padish too." Erend nods. "If something happens to me... can you look after all of them? Keep them safe? Keep Zero Dawn safe?" Hopefully, it won't come to that, but she figures it's something Erend needs to hear. A reframing of his role in this new plan of hers into something he's more comfortable with. Something flares within her as she says it, however - a sudden disquiet.

Erend relaxes. "Of course I can." He looks down at the Focus again. "What's this for, then?"

"It'll help you access the c- the machines that run Zero Dawn," Aloy says. "It's yours. Your own second sight," she adds with a grin.

But as she watches Erend gaze at the Focus display, open-mouthed, the disquiet grows.

* * *

When Varl reaches All-Mother’s temple, he has to pass through a crowd to get to the entrance, and he starts to understand why Aloy hates being the Anointed. Every eye is fixed on him, and it’s enough to make even a brave pause. Varl grits his teeth and sets his shoulders, ignoring the stares, shaking his head at the questions as he hurries past. He has no answers yet.

Inside, he finds his mother waiting with the High Matriarchs, in front of a closed All-Mother door. Seems that part of Ilana’s tale was just hearsay. When the women turn to face him, Varl comes to a full stop, at an abrupt loss. Sona still has a way of disarming him with a look, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever outgrow that. It isn’t one of her harder looks, however. It’s softer and worried and... proud?

"Come here, child," Teersa says, holding out a hand. "It’s alright."

Varl breathes as deeply as he can and crosses the room.

"This is unprecedented," Lansra mutters. The word sounds like a curse in her voice.

Teersa ignores her. "I suppose you’ve heard," she says, and Varl nods. "It’s true. The Goddess has asked for you. This has never happened before, but I recall that Aloy asked for your help. Did she tell you anything about All-Mother’s intentions? Did All-Mother instruct her to ask you?"

With the eyes of his mother and the Matriarchs on him, holding more knowledge in his head than he can tell them, Varl perfectly understands why Aloy hates being the Anointed. He swallows and tries to make his voice steady. "The Goddess... has been instructing Aloy, yes. I think... I think All-Mother wanted her to ask people she trusted to aid her in her... quest."  _I trust you, Varl, more than I trust anyone._ He can’t let her down. He has to handle this situation as best he can. "So... she asked me. But she didn't say anything about this. Maybe the Goddess needs me to do something while Aloy’s not here."

"Do the specifics matter?" Sona asks, stern. Her hand comes to rest on Varl’s shoulder as she faces the Matriarchs. "All-Mother has asked for him. It is our duty to obey."

Her pragmatism has always been a constant in Varl's life, and he doesn't miss the look she sends his way. It seems to see right into him, as if she knows that he's obscuring something. Another constant, never being able to slip anything past her. And yet, she still speaks for him.

"I agree," Jezza murmurs.

Lansra scowls.

"The door should open for me," Varl says, gripped with a sudden boldness. "Aloy told the Goddess about me. All-Mother should recognize me."

For a moment, the silence is so total that Varl's ears ring. Then Teersa nods. So does Jezza. Finally, Lansra acquiesces with a jerk of her head.

Sona squeezes Varl's shoulder, and he shifts to face her. Her hand moves up and rises to cup his face for heartbeat before dropping back to his shoulder - a rare moment of openness. "A proud day for us," she murmurs, and Varl's chest tightens with nameless emotion. He wishes that making her proud didn't have to rest on a lie. He wishes that Vala could be here to see this. She would've loved teasing Varl about the Goddess and the Anointed having a soft spot for him.

He lifts a hand and rests it over his mother's for a moment. Then he turns to the door. He keeps his sister's face in his mind as he approaches it.

_"Hold for identiscan."_

The red light sweeps over him and retreats.

 _"Genetic identity confirmed. Entry authorized."_  The door opens, and a rush of stale air hits him. Varl releases a tense breath. _"Greetings, Varl. You are cleared to proceed."_

He looks back and has eyes only for his mother. She gives him a nod, face hard but eyes soft, and he turns back to face the now-open door, swallowing again.

What had Aloy called this place? The ELEUTHIA facility. _An_ ELEUTHIA facility. There are more, apparently, and they’d birthed the ancestors of the humans who walk the world now. Aloy had introduced him to whatever machine spirit still ran the place, and that’s the only explanation he can come up with for why it’s calling for him specifically. But that still doesn’t explain why it's calling for him at all.

There’s only one way to find out.

Varl squares his shoulders and enters the facility.

* * *

By the time Vanasha is free, Aloy has had enough time for doubts to start creeping in.

They meet in the gardens where the palace’s fruits are grown. Evening light paints the place in pinks and oranges, and the heat of the day fights a losing battle against a slowly infringing chill. The air seems to shimmer as a result, making leaves and fruit skins glitter in the light. It’s beautiful, and its peace doesn’t do anything to quell the overthinking that’s wormed its way through Aloy’s mind like a rockbreaker under soil.

If Vanasha sees anything of Aloy’s sudden turmoil, she doesn’t say anything about it. "So, huntress," she says, as Aloy nears the center of the gardens where Vanasha has spread a blanket out on the ground, between two rows of citrus trees. Vanasha sits cross-legged on the blanket, smiling up at Aloy. A basket sits next to her, full of picked citrus. "Are you finally going to tell me why you’re here?"

"You mean you don’t already know by now?" Aloy asks, sitting down across from Vanasha, mirroring her pose.

"I haven't pried," Vanasha says, holding up her hands. Then she leans back on them, regarding Aloy with an unreadable expression. "I like you far too much for that. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the allure of my company for long." Aloy smiles, but she can’t hold it in place, and Vanasha notices. She tilts her head. "It’s not good,” she says, a rare, open gravitas settling into her.

"It’s..." Aloy tries, and she casts about for a word, finds nothing, and sighs, "a lot."

Vanasha leans forward and straightens. "The Sun-King has asked me to arrange a private meeting at the Spire," she says, entirely serious. "Start there." She reaches into the basket and pulls out an orange, tossing it to Aloy.

So Aloy does, working her way backwards this time. It’s almost rote now. She can say it without thinking, spill the whole ugly truth of the world without the meaning of each word and its jagged edges cutting into her. As she speaks, she decimates the orange's skin, and soon only its loosely joined slices rest in her hands. She doesn't have the stomach for eating, however, and she rolls the peeled fruit between her hands instead.

Vanasha remains silent, absorbing everything, utterly still in contrast to Aloy's restlessness. When Aloy is finished, all of Vanasha’s natural humor is gone. Only hard lines are left on her face and etched into her form, as if carved from stone. She gazes at Aloy, intent, and Aloy looks away, watching evening shadows curl around an orange hanging from a low branch nearby.

"This is..." Vanasha says at last, the words riding out on a slow exhale, "... a great deal of trust you're placing in me."

"It's well-deserved," Aloy says, an echo. She remembers finding Vanasha in the tent-city outside of Sunfall. The children clustered around her, food clutched in little hands. Vanasha's steadfast dedication to protecting Uthid, who'd protected the weakest of the Shadow Carja, and to liberating Itamen and Nasadi from Sunfall. Her ferocity in facing the Shadow Carja. Her unfaltering assistance in the days of the battle's aftermath, somehow always knowing where need was greatest. Besides, she owes Vanasha for that blatant bribery yesterday. "I figured it was my turn to tell you a secret."

She looks up just in time to see a pleased smile cross Vanasha’s face, fleeting and secretive but visible. "I’d be honored to do this, Aloy," she says, without her usual edge of wit and deflection. "I've never gotten to thank you for Sunfall, anyway." Her sincerity lets Aloy know that Vanasha understands the true weight of the situation. She takes it in stride, like Aloy had thought she would. "It's a smart move on your part. What the Eclipse had made them a serious threat, and it sounds like this Zero Dawn has immense power over the entire world. I'd hate to see that left unattended."

Aloy’s hands abandon the orange slices, go to the globe at her neck, and squeeze it. GAIA had destroyed herself rather than let HADES have access to the terraforming technology. She'd stressed the urgency of bringing her back. So much rests in Aloy’s hands still, so much uncertainty and influence, and giving Zero Dawn other stewards is strategically sound.

Vanasha narrows her eyes. "But something's not sitting right with you."

Aloy squeezes the globe tighter. "I don't know..." she says. "I mean, I know this is a good idea, but..." She sighs. Vanasha had asked if Aloy's presence here meant trouble, and Aloy is beginning to reconsider her answer. "I keep thinking about everything that’s gone wrong. Since the the beginning. All it takes is one move. I feel like I'm making things more vulnerable too."

"Adding soldiers to a line of defense does the opposite of that," Vanasha points out. "They can close gaps, take losses."

"That’s just it," Aloy says, voice tight. Painting targets on the backs of the people she trusts, the people she's asking to do this for her - that's what it is. "The Alphas were _murdered_ , Vanasha. All of them. In a few seconds." The Alphas dead and APOLLO destroyed in an instant, all because an outsider had held an advantage that Aloy still can't make sense of.

Understanding alights in Vanasha’s eyes. She grabs another orange from the basket and begins bouncing it between her hands as Aloy had, looking thoughtful. "Well," she says, "from what you said, they were all cornered in one place. We just won't have drinking nights."

It drags a half-hearted chuckle out of Aloy. She looks down at her hands and lets go of the globe.

"Unexpected contingencies, little huntress," Vanasha continues. "No one can plan for those. But we can plan for all of the possibilities we _can_ predict, like you’re doing now. And that's been enough so far. The world's still here. I'm sure everyone agreeing to this wants it to stay that way. So don't you dare feel guilty about asking. Why do you get all of the world-saving fun, anyway?"

Aloy smiles, deep and real. She looks up at Vanasha, who sets the orange aside and leans back on her hands once more, that false relaxation evident in her posture again. "Thanks," Aloy murmurs. When she pulls out another Focus, Vanasha’s eyes light up in interest. "You’ll need this for tomorrow. You can keep it. Might even make your job easier."

Vanasha takes the Focus and clips it over her ear, and as Aloy explains its functions, putting more emphasis on its ability to provide readouts of the environment and detect anything within a certain range, save for a hidden stalker and other cloaked signals, the interest in Vanasha’s eyes deepens. Her eyes flash through whatever the Focus is showing her, and her hands dart this way and that, developing a quick mastery.

"You spoil me, huntress," Vanasha says in genuine delight. "Oh, this is going to be _very_ useful."

* * *

The facility door slides shut behind Varl, enclosing him within the shadowy confines of the mountain’s heart. He clenches his fists, as if to squeeze sudden, vulnerable fear out of himself. There’s nothing to be afraid of, he tells himself. This place had been made for them, and he doesn’t think it means any harm. It’s old and eerie, but that’s not its fault. Maybe Aloy did something when she was here that triggered an awakening. Maybe it just needs him to fix something.

Still, Varl’s hand wraps around the bow that he hadn't had time to put away, and by the time he reaches the door on the left, an arrow is nocked. He spins the lock with one hand as Aloy had, and his other hand remains clutched around the riser. Just in case.

The door opens. A metal facsimile of a human – faceless, half-crumpled, jerky – stumbles through.

Varl cries out and throws himself backwards. Instinct kicks in, and he has an arrow trained on the creature in the next breath, even as he backs away as far the room will allow.

"Varl. Do not be afraid," a low, monotone female voice says – the metal creature says, though it has no mouth. It stops just outside the door, facing him.

Some of the rushing in Varl’s ears retreats, replaced by Aloy’s voice. _It used to be a servant of the Goddess._ He keeps the arrow pulled taut, steady, even though his hands want to shake, but he doesn’t release it.

"Your physiological state indicates an activation of your sympathetic nervous system," the creature says, and light flickers over it, the distorted image of a person captured in an instant, as if struggling to break free. "Relaxation is suggested. I will not harm you."

Varl remembers the device in his belt pouch, and he lowers the bow and fumbles for the Focus. Once it’s attached to his ear, the arching lights are made visible. Light streams off of the creature, too – deep pink, enthralling in the way it dances like dust, overlaying and intertwining with the fractured image of a woman that flickers over the metal frame.

 _Multiservitor B1-23,_ the Focus says. It tries to tell him more about the makeup of the metal creature, but he's too on edge to try to work his way through Old One script, and he pushes the words aside. "What..." Varl begins, then swallows and tries again, "what are you?"

"I am ELEUTHIA," the creature says, and Varl’s head starts to spin, the dark room closing in on him even more. "I have utilized this multiservitor’s form in order to speak with you. Directives indicate that a humanoid form is required for optimal ease when interacting with humans. Functionality is limited due to data corruption and decay of apparatus over time. Control is not perfected. I apologize for distress caused by sub-optimal appearance."

"ELEUTHIA," Varl repeats, dazed. "You’re... you’re one of GAIA’s..."

"I was once a subordinate function of the primary operating system, GAIA," the creature – ELEUTHIA – says. "Primary system is offline. I am now a primary system."

Varl shakes his head, tightens his fingers around the bow that hangs in one hand, and forces himself to breathe and think. GAIA’s message had said that the subordinate functions had escaped. Aloy had said that she didn’t know what they were up to or how to find them. But one is _here_. Asking for him. It hasn't tried to hurt him yet. "What do you want?"

It is several seconds before ELEUTHIA answers, as if she’s hesitating. "I am... confused," she says, and Varl is seized by a hysterical desire to laugh. That makes two of them. "Creation protocol has been carried out. Further directives cannot be determined without the knowledge protocol. Alpha input is requested."

The words float in Varl’s mind. "Alpha input?"

"Previous Alpha could not be contacted." ELEUTHIA comes to a full stop, a break in the quick way she talks, and it's a few seconds before she resumes. "You are a living Alpha of the ELEUTHIA system. Alpha input is requested."

Aloy had given him some kind of rank. Alpha Eleuthia, she’d called him. That’s why ELEUTHIA is here? "Why now?" Varl asks. "Why not sooner?" Why not when Aloy had been here, so that he doesn’t have to figure this out by himself?

"Transmission to ELEUTHIA-9 required time. Activation of ELEUTHIA-9 required time. Override and repair of Multiservitor B1-23 required time and was not fully achieved."

Varl gets the sense that ELEUTHIA has been busy. "And you want... my help?"

"Correct," ELEUTHIA says. "Alpha input is requested in the development of new directives."

Varl shakes his head again. "I don’t... I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking. I don’t understand a lot of... this." He gestures to the entrance room, the facility beyond.

The metal creature – the multiservitor – stares at him, the flickering face devoid of emotion as it winks in and out of existence. "I have copied Multiservitor B1-23’s protocol and assimilated it into my own," ELEUTHIA says, more slowly than she had before, as if struggling, "in order to access vocabulary bank and social directives. In order to understand humans. However, data corruption limits full assimilation. Further assistance must be obtained from the Alpha."

Varl doesn’t need to understand every word of that to know that ELEUTHIA is almost as confused as he is. Sympathy twinging, he says, "Alright. You want my help." That much, at least, has been confirmed. "With... doing your job?"

"Protocol has been carried out," ELEUTHIA says. Even though she speaks in monotone, she comes across as frustrated.

Protocol is job, then. ELEUTHIA’s job had been to help GAIA create the new humans, Aloy had said. Like another mother, Varl thinks, softening. So... ELEUTHIA already completed what she was supposed to do and doesn’t know what to do next? "What are directives?" he asks. The word had come up a few times when Aloy had been communicating with the facility, but Varl's head had been full of too many other new things to ask.

"Directives are subcategories of protocol," ELEUTHIA says, after a pause.

"Instructions?" Varl asks.

Another pause. "Correct," ELEUTHIA says. "Query: Is that vocabulary preferred?"

"Yes," Varl says hastily. "So... you want me to tell you what to do next?"

"Yes."

Varl stares at the servitor and realizes that most of the room still separates them. He shoulders his bow, then crosses some of the distance between them. The fear is draining out of his body, even though the sight of the face flickering over nothing but chipped metal is probably going to show up in nightmares. ELEUTHIA remains where she is, unnaturally still, though occasionally the servitor’s body twitches. The pink light still radiates off of her, revealed by the Focus, and Varl watches it. "I don’t know what to tell you," he says. "What do you _want_ to do next?"

ELEUTHIA doesn’t answer right away. "Unknown," she says at last. "Alpha input – _your_ input is requested."

"I know you want my help," Varl says. "But I can't give you orders." His stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought, and again, he thinks of Aloy’s distaste at being the Anointed. ELEUTHIA is a machine spirit like GAIA. Why would she want him to tell her what to do? If anything, it should be the other way around.

"That is the _job_ of the Alpha," ELEUTHIA says, stressing the word, as if testing it out.

"Not anymore," Varl says. "Aloy only gave me that rank so that I could see GAIA’s message."

"Query: What is Aloy?"

"Elisabet Sobeck," Varl corrects himself. "Alpha Prime? But her real name is Aloy. And I think she would say the same thing. It isn't right to order you around."

A long silence follows this. The servitor moves a little and creaks as it does. "Your input is requested," ELEUTHIA says, with that almost-frustration.

Varl sighs. "Alright," he says, thinking fast. What he really wants is for Aloy to come back and deal with this. But she’s off trying to restore GAIA and find the other subordinate functions. Or find HEPHAESTUS, at least. Varl seizes on that. ELEUTHIA doesn’t seem dangerous, so maybe not all of the subordinate functions are, but Aloy needs HEPHAESTUS most of all. "Could you tell me where your siblings are?" he says without thinking, then amends the statement. "The other subordinate functions, I mean."

"Siblings are two or more offspring sharing at least one parent," ELEUTHIA says. "Query: How does that definition apply to myself and other formerly subordinate functions?"

Varl frowns. "I don't know, it's an easier way to talk about you. GAIA's like your mother, isn't she?"

"Query: Is that vocabulary preferred?"

"Yes?" Varl says uncertainly. "It doesn't matter. I just want to know if you can find them."

"Locating my siblings is not within my capabilities. It is potentially within MINERVA's capabilities. MINERVA's location is unknown."

Aloy had only mentioned the names of a few subordinate functions, and Varl can't recall if she'd mentioned a MINERVA or what that one was meant to do. "MINERVA is... one of your siblings?"

"Yes."

Varl buries his disappointment. At least he now knows that one of the subordinate functions may be capable of finding the others. There are other ways that ELEUTHIA can help. "Aloy wants to restore GAIA," Varl says. "What was it you said GAIA was?"

"My mother is offline."

"Offline," Varl repeats. Must be machine-speak for dead. "Aloy wants to fix that, but she needs to rebuild parts of GAIA first. So she needs to understand how you machines work. Can you tell me anything about that?"

The human form projected over the metal frame continues to flicker, but it's less unsettling now. "Query: You are requesting to understand components of Zero Dawn operating systems?"

"Yes," Varl says, hoping that means something useful. And as ELEUTHIA launches into long monotone explanations of things that he's only just beginning to grasp, he figures that it does.


	5. Chapter 5

Aloy finds a few machine bodies scattered between the trees that surround Meridian Village, a trail that leads her to the sawtooth. When she sees it unharmed, relaxing under a tree, she exhales in relief, in annoyance rapidly taking the place of fear. "What did I tell you?" she demands, as Scourge uncurls, gets to its feet, and trots to greet her. "No picking fights. These are all you, aren't they?" She gestures to a dead snapmaw behind her.

Scourge eyes her innocently, content.

Muttering, Aloy scours the area, the sawtooth ambling behind her. In the earliest light of dawn, further machine corpses glint. Though she doesn't follow it all the way, the trail forms a semicircle around the settlement, as far as she can tell. Aloy stops, looking towards the village, then turns around to face the sawtooth again. Her eyes trace its form, noting tiny scratches and dents that weren't there before. "... Have you been protecting the village?"

Machines, breaking from their usual patrol routes, going wherever they will. But Aloy hasn't caught wind of any trouble in Meridian Village since she's been here - only tales of recovery and damage not yet fixed, some of which she'd seen with her own eyes while skirting the village. Scourge circles her once and stretches as Aloy stands there, wondering if it's possible.

The sawtooth is protective of her, but could it be generalizing that to humans as a whole? Is it smart enough for that, to understand that other machines getting too close to the village would present a threat to everyone there? Smart _and_ conscientious enough to set up its own patrol around the village? She doesn't think machines, as a rule, have that level of intelligence. It's something new and different in Scourge's makeup. Something, perhaps, in the new machines breaking routine as well, but lacking the conscientiousness that only seems to exist due to override.

Aloy rubs the sawtooth's head and scratches away a bit of dirt. "I can't stop you," she says, as much as her reluctance to leave it behind doubles. Not unless she wants to mind the creature endlessly. She meets its eyes and makes her voice forceful. "But be careful. And don't follow me."

She leaves Scourge there and makes her way to the designated meeting spot.

Dawn is only just beginning to break, a crack in the chill of the Sundom's night, and it creeps over the mostly restored Meridian Village. Aloy circles the village and sticks to the cover of the trees, but her eyes seek it out, noting buildings fully restored and half restored and the skeletons of others not yet rebuilt. Last time she'd been here, Carja builders had been setting to work, and much of the rubble had not yet been cleared away. Now, from the right angles, she almost can't tell that an army had once trampled through.

In the dim light of early morning, it takes Aloy a moment to spot the others. The trees are quiet, the woods holding their breath, bathed in the soft pink-blue of the earliest, misty sunlight, and it's clear that the other three are dressed to blend in. And dressed for a fight, Aloy thinks.

Erend is obviously trying to look inconspicuous in earthy browns and only halfway managing it as he waves at her, armed to the teeth. Vanasha is clad in dark grays and blacks, with no visible weapons - not the usual flair her people favor. Instead, it's more sleeves and less colors, an unusual sight on a Carja. Next to Vanasha is a man in dark greens whose curly hair peeks out from underneath a hood, and Aloy has to look and look again.

Avad smiles at her, a different person without the trappings of the Sun-King, and Vanasha throws back her head and laughs. "I do good work, don't I?"

"Is smuggling people out of cities a hobby of yours?" Aloy asks, grinning, and then, to Avad, "If I didn't know you'd be here, I wouldn't have recognized you."

"That fire-hair of yours stands out, though," Erend says. "Surprised it didn't get you a crowd of admirers."

"Is anyone even awake at this hour?" Aloy asks, though she's usually up with the dawn, if she sleeps at all. A few workers and soldiers had been up and about as she'd skirted Meridian Village, but no one moves on the roads past the village, save for the group of four.

They set off towards the Alight and the shadowy Spire rising out of the mist in the distance, the last of the known Zero Dawn locations on her list. Aloy has followed this path once before; then, she had been trailing in the wake of destruction. She can see where gaps in the surrounding trees mark the ghosts of those that had been burned away and torn up by the trampling of machines, where new growth hasn't yet set in. Where gouges in the road aren’t fully filled in and scorch marks still paint stone.

"Marad is covering for me," Avad says, when Aloy asks if they'd had difficulty leaving the palace unobtrusively. "He wasn't happy about it, but he's quite good at it."

Erend makes a face, plainly seen.

"Someone else isn't happy about it," Vanasha says with a roll of her eyes.

"It's just not safe," Erend says, with the air of someone who's argued this before. "Splintered or not, what's left of the Shadow Carja is still mad as spit and fire. I don't know who they want dead more, Aloy or Avad, but we're basically dangling bait out here."

"And we're four very capable people in an area I had my own operatives canvass," Vanasha says. "They're keeping an eye on things. Have some faith."

Aloy understands Erend’s protectiveness, knows it stems from the gaping hole left by his sister. Ersa had told him to keep Avad safe, had died from underestimating the capabilities of their enemies. But Vanasha's operatives? "Are the Shadow Carja really that much of a problem still?" she asks. She'd known they were lingering, that ideology takes a long time to fade and isn't as simple as defeating the Eclipse, but despite Vanasha's confident words, the woman is on edge.

The argument breaks off, and Vanasha sighs. "They're no more than small groups of terrorists at this point, more hungry for revenge than for the throne. But sometimes a dozen smaller groups with different objectives are just as dangerous as a larger group with one," she says. "Harder to keep tabs on. Which is why I don't take chances, and I'm not. We have people watching this area, and there are signals in place in case anyone gets brave enough to try something. We don't need a fleet of oafs in addition to that," she says, giving Erend a direct look, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "We'll be alone up there, so you can do your thing," she adds to Aloy.

The grounds around the Spire have been reconstructed enough that it's possible to walk the path that winds up the Alight, over makeshift wooden bridges and walkways that take the place of stone for now. Aloy's thoughts are drawn inevitably back to her precarious rush to the top almost a year ago. It had been a site of unbridled chaos then, with HADES lording over it. Now, the place is peaceful and empty. No Deathbringer corpse remains, and no AI waits upon the destruction of the world. Still, Aloy can't help but notice that there's only one way off of the mesa, can't help but take stock of the shadows and corners of its places of worship.

Above it all rises the Spire itself, lofty and gleaming black. Mist clings to it this early in the day, veiling it in static, and beams of sunlight peeking through morning clouds create a patterned effect of light and shadow upon its checkered sides.

As Aloy had requested, Avad's people had returned HADES's console to the foot of the Spire. Unease rears its head in Aloy's stomach as she and the others cross the courtyard and approach the Spire proper. The console sits close to where it had before, on a grassy, sloping knoll, and she crouches down to run a hand over the spherical metal, sweeping her eyes across its surface, taking stock of all the little details she'd missed in her haste months ago. The broken spot where she'd driven the lance into it is still there. But it's innocuous now, with nothing of HADES left in it. It had just been a vessel, she'd told herself then. A means to an end. Not HADES himself.

Her Focus identifies it automatically, highlighting files taken from Maker's End as it does. The core of a Horus-class Titan, a Metal Devil.

Aloy's unease deepens as she considers the implications.

Why this? She hadn't thought about it much after the battle, too busy with immediate efforts to look after the wounded and assess the damage, here and in the Sacred Land. Then she hadn't thought about it at all, the console - core - slipping from her mind entirely while busy with a long trip to Elisabet's home and her efforts to restore GAIA. All she knows is that Sylens had found HADES in a Titan, that HADES had used this core as a dwelling and a means to access the Spire, that the core had enabled her to use the master override on the AI.

The most sophisticated thing she'd done with it had been to jam the master override into it and pray that it worked. But after a few moments of inspection, her Focus shows her where to place her hand, and a nearly invisible screen glows underneath her palm.

"Access the broadcast tower," she says, pointing to the Spire.

 _"Processing,"_ a synthetic voice says in her ear. The same voice that had addressed her nearly a year ago when she'd stopped HADES, but different from the one at Zero Dawn facilities.  _"Hold for identiscan."_ The screen under Aloy's palm lights up again. _"Error. Identity not found in Omega Registry. Access denied."_

 _What the hell is Omega clearance?_ Charles's voice snarls in Aloy's memory.

She nearly recoils as a cold feeling slams into her gut. A dozen unknown variables all of a sudden sit under Aloy's hand, and she has to stop herself from snatching it away. Is this the same Omega clearance? The access that had allowed Ted Faro to kill the Alphas? In the core of a Metal Devil? Aloy takes a bracing breath and restrains the immediate instinct to stop, to find some other way to interface with the tower. She has no other way. Her Focus can't connect with it.

"The broadcast tower should hold the Alpha Registry," she tells the core. "Use that. Give me access."

 _"Alpha Registry cannot be used to access Far Zenith system,"_ the voice says.

She halts and frowns. It stirs something in her memory, though she doesn't know why until she flicks through her Focus display and scans the words. The Focus database immediately pulls up every reference it has to the subject.

"Everything okay?" she hears Erend ask in concern.

"It's fine, just give me a second," Aloy murmurs. Far Zenith... some group of unidentified wealthy individuals who'd purchased a colony ship that was supposed to have been humanity's other second chance, before it had been destroyed. Elisabet herself had detailed it to the rest of the Alphas - an _antimatter containment failure_ , and Aloy still doesn't know what that means, nor does she have the best grasp of what a colony ship is. But the group had been wealthy enough to have access to all kinds of technology.

What is a Far Zenith system doing in a Titan's core?

"I want you to communicate with the tower," Aloy says. "Not the Far Zenith system." She points at the Spire again for emphasis, the Focus display rippling as she does. "I need that. I have clearance for that already."

_"Alpha Registry cannot be used to access Far Zenith system."_

Aloy digs fingernails into her palm to temper her frustration and resists the urge to smash the lance into the core as she had before. "So you're not going to let me in?"

_"Alpha Registry cannot be used to access Far Zenith system."_

She stands and tries not to kick the damn thing. "Okay," she says, remembering with a start that she's not the only person present. She tangles a hand with her hair, sighing, and turns around, letting her arm fall. Vanasha, Erend, and Avad all watch her curiously, and now she feels foolish. "This thing won't work for me."

"Who were you talking to?" Vanasha asks, her eyes sliding between Aloy and the core.

Aloy jabs at the core with her foot. "The machine inside of it. I need this thing if I want to use the Spire. It's... like a mediator." But if the core doesn't work, she'll have to find another way. Maybe there's something in the Spire that can interface with her Focus after all, and she just needs to take a closer look, climb up and get a look with her eyes too.

"You managed before, yes?" Avad says, breaking through Aloy's thoughts. "To stop HADES."

"I did, but..." Aloy trails off. She slips the lance off of her back, brings it around to stare at the master override, unnerved at the abrupt implications. "I used this on HADES." How _had_  the override gained access, then?

"Use it again," Vanasha says matter-of-factly.

Aloy glares down at the device. "Worth a try," she mutters. It isn't just about adding people to the Registry anymore. She wants to know what this Far Zenith system is and why this Omega clearance is present in Zero Dawn. She spins the lance around and grips it with one hand, then crouches down next to the core again. "Hey," she says, bringing the master override up and holding it in front of the screen. "Use this to give me access to _something_."

A second passes, a flash of light, then: _"Access Far Zenith system?"_

"Yes," Aloy says impatiently.

This time, there is no shock overwhelming her senses from shoving the master override inside in a panic. This time, she hears the cool synthetic voice welcome her. _"Omega clearance confirmed. Access authorized."_

The same hologram from before spreads out around her, making the grassy area at the foot of the Spire into the likeness of a room – a room that looks out into space, the void of the night sky as Aloy has never seen it before. Once again, it momentarily steals her breath. This must be what space looks like from beyond the planet's borders, she thinks, standing and slinging the lance back into place, while her left hand grasps momentarily at the globe around her neck.

In Aloy's memory, the Spire rises cloaked in red, but now it remains quiet, its usual black and gray. With a shudder, it comes to life, its sides flaring out like wings. Elisabet's towering form emerges automatically. _"Master override, armed._ _To activate, state name and rank."_

"Disarm the master override, but keep access to the broadcast tower," Aloy tells it. She finds herself actually praying that it will work - to whom, she isn't sure. To Elisabet, maybe. Aloy gazes up at her and waits.

_"Master override, disarmed."_

Elisabet's form disappears, but the room remains, and nothing else appears to change. Aloy breathes out in relief, but it's quickly soured. "Show me everything in the Far Zenith system," she demands.

Her Focus display is abruptly awash with script and files - some of it understandable, some of it far less so. She glances through them, and her eyes are drawn to the most identifiable file present. The Alpha Registry. An older copy of it, Aloy thinks, studying it. Why is a copy of the Alpha Registry in this thing? "Show me the tower's Alpha Registry," she says.

_"Alpha Registry not found."_

A stiff wariness sinks into Aloy's shoulders. "What security protects the tower, then? Show me."

Two files materialize in front of her, and her Focus helps her to identify them - a HEPHAESTUS Registry and a MINERVA Registry. She compares them to the Far Zenith files and finds identical copies.

Omega clearance. Ted Faro had gained access to Zero Dawn through Omega clearance. Aloy herself had just gained access to Spire through Omega clearance, through copied files contained within a Titan's core, and HADES must have done the same. The _master override_  possesses Omega clearance. Aloy tries to pull all of it together and pulls a file from her Focus to glance through it again.

> **_DALGAARD ON FZ_ **
> 
> **Interview: Dalgaard Opens up about Far Zenith--a little**
> 
> **February 28, 2061**

She skims it, her eyes drawn back to a few lines in particular.

> _Osvald's countenance may be exuberantly inviting, but the organization for which he serves as a mouthpiece is anything but. To date, he is the only publicly acknowledged member of Far Zenith, which claims to comprise seventy-seven of the world's wealthiest persons._

Aloy shoves the data fragment away with a huff and shoves down her growing anger. There's more going on here, with Ted Faro and Far Zenith, but she doesn't give herself time to consider it. Not yet. She's kept the others waiting long enough. She copies the Far Zenith files to her Focus for later study, then asks, "Can you add the Alpha Registry to the tower?"

The core does so promptly, answering her question.

"If I add genetic profiles to the Alpha Registry here," Aloy says, speaking slowly and choosing her words carefully, so as to make sure the question is clearly communicated, "will the Registries in other Zero Dawn facilities be updated?"

_"Query cannot be processed."_

So it doesn't know. Aloy rubs her forehead and pulls one of the messages between the Alphas from her Focus - from Elisabet to Margo. The broadcast towers had been constructed after Zero Day by HEPHAESTUS's machines. She doesn't know the specifics of the network that Zero Dawn operates on, how GAIA had navigated between its many components, but there's a possibility that the security systems of the MINERVA network and the rest of Zero Dawn are different, not connected, hence the lack of an Alpha Registry in the Spire's system. Stupid, stupid mistake, not thinking of this possibility earlier.

Fortunately, she already knows how to carry files between facilities for the purposes of merging and updating. She can do that again, just to be sure. Any facility will do.

The Alpha Registry itself, at least, is easily understandable at this point. Aloy turns and finds it a bit dizzying to remember that no one else can see the holographic interface yet, can see or comprehend anything that just happened. That feeling of being alone is not a pleasant one. She looks down to find the others seated on the grass, talking amongst themselves as they watch and wait for her. How long had she stood around staring at files that only she could see?

"Sorry," she says, as they get to their feet. "That must have been strange to watch."

"But fascinating," Vanasha says, dusting her hands on her tunic. "Any success?"

"Some," Aloy sighs. "Enough." She says nothing about the new mystery on her hands, only gestures to Avad. He steps forward to stand beside her, a little uncertainly, and Aloy turns back to the core. "Can you add a genetic profile to the Alpha Registry in the tower?" After a moment, the screen begins to blink, light that flashes across its invisible surface. Aloy nods, gesturing, and Avad crouches down to place his hand on it, as she had. The light performs a scan, and then the voice speaks, in Avad's ear as well as Aloy's.

_"State name and rank."_

"Avad, Alpha Apollo," he says, as Aloy had instructed him to on the way up to the Spire. Her own private joke.

 _I thought Apollo was the sun god,_ Travis's voice says in Aloy's memory, in an audio log saved to her Focus.

 _He was the god of many things,_ Samina sighs with a deep weariness. _Including truth and knowledge._ _Have you ever read anything that's not risqué, Mr. Tate?_

The synthetic voice cuts into Aloy’s thoughts. _"Error. Rank is attached to existing entry. Overwrite genetic profile of Samina Ebadji?"_

Often, Aloy thinks of how especially cruel the past had been to Samina. How she’d died knowing that all of her hard work had amounted to nothing in the end. "Yes," Aloy says, making sure that her voice does not reflect her thoughts.

_"Genetic profile added to Alpha Registry. Access authorized."_

Avad's reaction tells her when the holographic room unfolds for him – face going slack, eyes widening, a hand rising to his Focus as it beeps in his ear. He rises from his crouch, and his head turns this way and that as he blinks rapidly, much less dignified. "By the Sun. This is..." he says, gazing open-mouthed at the display surrounding them, "the night sky?"

"Yeah," Aloy says, smiling. "Up close."

She starts the process again, gesturing for Vanasha to step forward, and Vanasha imitates Avad, placing her hand against the core.

 _"State name and rank,"_  the synthetic voice tells Vanasha.

"Vanasha, Alpha Minerva," she says smoothly, but she can’t quite hide the undercurrent of excitement in her voice. 

_"Error. Rank is attached to existing entry. Overwrite genetic profile of Ayomide Okilo?"_

"Yes," Aloy says, watching the flashing light illuminate Vanasha's hand over and over again. It’s getting easier to say.

_"Genetic profile added to Alpha Registry. Access authorized."_

Vanasha goes still, and for several moments, only her eyes move, watching the holographic room swirl around her. Slowly, she gets up and turns to observe it. "Little huntress," she says, eyes high, fixed on the stars, "you know how to throw a party."

Aloy smiles again.

"Am I gonna be invited to this party?" Erend asks behind them.

Once again, the process repeats, and as "Erend Vanguardsman, Alpha Demeter" is said, Aloy feels a small part of her that's now wound up tight relax. This endeavor has added yet another mystery to her pile of them, and her instincts itch and writhe, pointing towards a danger that she can't see and that might not even be real. But she chuckles at Erend turning around and around to view the holographic room, at his disbelieving laugh, and she feels a little better, knowing that she's added a little more security to the project.

To Elisabet's project. Elisabet hadn't done it alone, either.

As the others admire the vastness of space, Aloy copies the updated Alpha Registry to her Focus. She'll bring it back to the ELEUTHIA facility, she decides. She needs to talk to Varl about all of this, anyway. She calls up the Far Zenith files again, considers the copy of the Alpha Registry stored in the core, and then, with a few quick motions, updates it. "Now that I have access," she says to the core, "can you alter your security protocol? Make the Alpha Registry a means of access?"

A few long seconds stretch out, the Registry flashes, then: _"Alpha Registry can now be used to access Far Zenith system."_

Aloy nods to herself in satisfaction. "Can you remove the Omega Registry?"

A file she doesn't recognize lights up, then disappears. The only copy left is the one saved to her Focus. Aloy relaxes even more. It's all working out, despite her blunder. Maybe the HEPHAESTUS Registry needs to be removed from the tower while she's at it, too; best not to let HEPHAESTUS have any more power than it already does.

The Spire trembles.

It's not an actual vibration, but a ripple that spreads throughout the holographic room, originating from the broadcast tower that rises above them. Aloy’s breath catches in her throat. She spins to face the Spire, and Vanasha, watching her reaction, immediately unsheathes two well-hidden knives from her sleeves. Erend steps in front of Avad, one hand extended protectively and the other grasping at his spear, as Avad's hand goes to the short sword at his side.

Tendrils of light – like the ones HADES had emitted, but soft purple instead – begin to coil down the Spire.

Aloy doesn't have to spend any time wondering. The dusty purple light looks so much like the aura that had cloaked HADES. And she already has an inkling as to who it is, as the purple light reaches the foot of the Spire. "Let me handle this," Aloy mutters to the others, stepping forward and placing herself firmly in front of them.

The light begins builds itself into a recognizable form before them, and when Aloy can make out its features, it feels like a punch to the gut. The blue form of Elisabet, only smaller and purple now. As if Elisabet is standing there, facing her, like a ghost.

"Alpha Prime is demonstrating signs of distress," the form says, when no words make it out of Aloy's throat.

"I..." Aloy tries and has to breathe deeply in order to continue. "That face..."

"Query: Source of distress is previous Alpha Prime?"

"Yes," Aloy says, more harshly than she intends.

"Query: Which intermediary form would Alpha Prime prefer?" Elisabet asks.

"You don’t need a form to talk to us," Aloy says sharply, angrily, a defense against the fact that a not-Elisabet is talking _to_ her and the fact that it hurts. "You're MINERVA, aren't you?"

Elisabet’s form dissolves, sinks into a mass of purple light, rather like the golden orb that GAIA had used to accompany Elisabet, that Aloy has seen in many a holo, but solid and real and whirling with fine particles that twist into abstract shapes. "Correct," it says, and Aloy feels Vanasha shift behind her. The orb hovers before them, rather fitting against the cosmic backdrop, and nothing happens. The Spire is not abruptly overtaken, and no malicious signals inject themselves into Aloy's Focus.

Still, Aloy doesn't let herself relax. "If you're here to try something, to hurt me or any of these people or anyone at all, I have this," she lifts the lance and demonstrates the master override attached to one end, "and I will use it, like I did with HADES."

"I am not HADES," the orb says, voice smooth, nearly without inflection. "I am MINERVA."

Aloy slips the lance back into its regular position and finds herself glaring. "Then where were you?" she demands. "When he was waking up the Faro machines again? If stopping them was your job, why weren't you here?"

"Reactivation was neutralized by the Alpha Prime," MINERVA says. "Intervention was unnecessary."

It make sense, but part of Aloy still wants to be angry. She vividly remembers the fear that had driven her up makeshift handholds in the Alight, the shrinking sense of time that had nipped at her heels, and yet, MINERVA had been out there somewhere. Could have stopped or reversed the broadcast, if not HADES himself. "How did HADES even reactivate them?" she asks. Yet another mystery she's never been able to solve.

"Unknown," MINERVA says.

Aloy looks to the swirling space around them and takes a breath, collecting herself. HADES had been more than capable of lying and trickery, of manipulation, but something tells her that isn't the case here. The master override can be armed and activated with a few mere words from Aloy, probably faster than MINERVA can exit the Spire. The fact that MINERVA is appearing to them at all with the master override so close likely means that the AI doesn't expect it to be used. Aloy puts HADES out of her mind and summons up the memory of GAIA. Just because HADES and HEPHAESTUS are dangerous doesn't mean that they all are. "Then what have you been doing this whole time?" Aloy asks. "Why show up now?"

The orb doesn't answer right away. It floats before them, its purple bright and alive compared to the deep violet hue that tints the holographic infinity around them. "... I have been assessing options," MINERVA says finally.

Aloy waits for it to say something further, and it doesn't. She holds back a frustrated sigh, reminding herself to be patient. "Like what?"

"Protocol has been completed," MINERVA says. "Further directives cannot be determined. Alpha Minerva has been detected."

It falls into place quickly for Aloy, and she stops breathing for a moment. Varl. This whole thing had started because she'd given him an Alpha rank on a whim. If MINERVA is here because Aloy had given Vanasha the matching rank, then... but she shoves the thought aside. She needs to head back to the Sacred Land anyway. She can't do anything about it until she's there. One thing at a time.

"You're here for me?" Vanasha asks, stepping forward through Aloy's silence. She seems unperturbed by the AI's appearance, and she looks at the orb with intense curiosity. Her knives are gone, vanished back up her sleeves.

"Correct," MINERVA says. "Alpha input is requested." The orb floats a little closer to Vanasha.

"You don't know what to do," Aloy says, in growing understanding. Her lingering hostility begins to fade in earnest, and she gazes at the orb as if seeing it for the first time. In the right perspective, at least. "MINERVA, I need to talk to your Alpha for a second."

"A second is insufficient for human communication," MINERVA says.

Halfway in the process of turning her attention to Vanasha, Aloy stops. "It's... just something that people say," she says. "It doesn't mean for an actual second."

"Query: What does it mean?"

"It means..." Aloy says, casting her mind about for phrasing that an AI would understand, "for a brief span of time."

The orb takes a moment to respond. "I am assimilating this information into my database."

"You do that," Aloy says, not sure if it's a good idea to start telling an AI that its definitions of things are wrong, but this isn't the time to consider it. She turns to Vanasha and finds Erend and Avad watching her, all of them looking to her for answers. "That's one of GAIA's subordinate functions," she says, lowering her voice, even though MINERVA likely still hears her. "It... she's... I think she's just confused without her job. MINERVA was supposed to shut down the Faro machines. She did that a long time ago."

"So... not all of them are threats?" Erend asks. He still holds his spear loosely in one hand, but its tip points towards the ground, no longer at the ready. "This one seems pretty harmless."

Aloy nods. "She just wants Vanasha's directions, I think. Whole teams created the sub-functions, but the Alphas, they were in charge of each one. Guess there's some lingering memory of that."

"And she's here because you made me her new Alpha?" Vanasha asks, glancing between Aloy and MINERVA. "What about Erend's, then?"

It hits Aloy abruptly. She'd also come to the Spire to see if she could harness its transmission abilities. The creature those abilities are intended for is right here. If there's anyone who can use the Spire in the way that Aloy needs, it's MINERVA. "Maybe she can help with that."

"It has been a second," MINERVA says suddenly, inching closer to Vanasha.

Aloy almost laughs as they all turn to face the orb again. It hovers not-quite-patiently, waiting, and now that Aloy's initial defensive instinct has worn off, thoughts of possibilities arise as she watches it. This... this is something. This is more progress made in one day than she's made in months.

Next to her, Vanasha folds her arms, still regarding MINERVA with that deep curiosity, as if trying to see into her secrets. "So you're here because you don't have a job anymore."

The orb bobs up and down, and Aloy realizes that it's _nodding_. It's learning from them, she thinks. Already, it's speech patterns are subtly changing, too. "Correct."

"Well, I'm sure we can find something for you to do," Vanasha says. "But first, some introductions. MINERVA, that's your name, right?"

"Correct," MINERVA says again. "You are Alpha Minerva."

"Yes, but my name is Vanasha," says Vanasha, casual and conversational, as if she's spoken to artificial intelligences all her life. "If you're going to help us, we should call each other by name, don't you think?"

A moment passes, and Aloy assumes that MINERVA is assimilating the information. They're really going to have to be careful about what they say, if Aloy's earlier blunder is anything to go by. MINERVA bobs, then floats closer to Aloy. "You are Elisabet Sobeck."

"Yes," Aloy says. MINERVA is probably getting the information from the Alpha Registry, and she doesn't want the AI to get it into her head that anything needs to be changed. The Alpha Prime rank is not something that Aloy wants to tamper with. "But people call me Aloy."

MINERVA bobs, then floats to Avad. "You are Avad."

"That's right," Avad says, watching her with fascination and... sadness? Aloy wonders if she's imagining it.

MINERVA floats over to Erend. "You are Erend."

"Yeah," Erend says. He shifts his feet, regarding the orb as if he doesn't know what to think. "Hey, you know anything about the other, uh... sub-functions, MINERVA? I'm supposed to be Alpha Demeter, but he- she- they aren't here."

"DEMETER's location is unknown," MINERVA says, and Erend's face falls a little, but he nods.

Oh, Aloy thinks, glancing briefly at Avad again. "You're here because you have access to the broadcast tower," she says to MINERVA. She'd suspected it the minute the light had coiled its way down the Spire.

"Yes," MINERVA says. "Addition of new Alpha Minerva was detected. Transmission was immediately initiated."

Must have been close then, Aloy thinks, pushing away the frustration that wants to rise at the memory of having no help in confronting HADES. "What can you do, exactly?" Aloy asks, keeping her thoughts on what needs to be done in the present, and sudden hope squeezes her chest tight. "Can you use transmissions to find things? Like any of the other sub-functions?"

MINERVA is silent for a few moments. "Subordinate functions are no longer subordinate," she says. "Primary system is offline. We are primary systems."

"Okay," Aloy says, "I'll remember that. Can you find any of the other systems?"

The silence stretches on for several long moments this time. The Spire pulses again, and Aloy's breath has a hard time making it past the hold that hope has on her lungs. "Seven system locations are unknown," MINERVA says at length. "HEPHAESTUS is detectable and is engaging in high levels of activity in the PSI facility."

An odd sort of weakness shoots through Aloy, relief so powerful that her knees shake. _Now_  she's getting somewhere. She can focus on the other subordinate functions later. She has the location of two, and she can potentially name the location of a third, if she goes back to the Sacred Land to find that her actions have unintentionally drawn ELEUTHIA there. If MINERVA isn't malicious, there's a chance that ELEUTHIA isn't, either, and Aloy isn't going to return to find an AI wreaking havoc. And if HEPHAESTUS is the only one detectable because of its activity, then maybe it means that the others aren't doing anything to sabotage the world. "Could you send the location to my Focus?" she asks, already mentally sketching out the next several steps in her plan of action.

Something blossoms in her Focus display, unfolding around her - a map, not merely a flat vertical display, but a horizontal projection that glitters with depth and detail, hovering at Aloy's waist. It's much more geographically detailed than the one her Focus had pulled together over the course of her journey, too. MINERVA's map syncs with Aloy's, and all of the data Aloy has gathered appears, locations and routes she'd marked, little notes she'd added. A new marked location shows up somewhere above Maker's End:  _HEPHAESTUS - 40.85200°N / 111.751°W_.

"This map," Aloy murmurs, using her fingers to draw the map inward, examining the detailed renderings of minute aspects of the landscape that become clearer the closer she zooms. "How did you make it?"

"Map was compiled using satellite data," MINERVA says.

Satellites are objects in space, things that the Old Ones had used for some of their communication. Aloy is fairly certain that tallnecks use the same data compilation methods, but MINERVA would naturally be better at it. Even though the answer isn't exactly what Aloy had meant to ask, the words spark an idea. "MINERVA," Aloy says. "Would you be able to create a communication network between Focuses?" The Eclipse had used a dead tallneck's transmission abilities to create theirs. The Spire should serve just as well. Better, even.

"Transmission networks are within my capabilities," MINERVA says.

Oh, now they're really getting somewhere. " _Could_ you do that for us?" Aloy amends.

MINERVA hesitates. "Construction of transmission network would require Alpha assistance and approximately thirty-three days to complete. Broadcast tower requires maintenance. Permanent installation is not currently feasible. Transmissions would break down over time unless constant maintenance was administered. Constant maintenance is inefficient."

Aloy doesn't have thirty-three days to wait around helping MINERVA to fix whatever in the Spire has become worn down, but she's not who MINERVA is asking for. Aloy glances at Vanasha, who has been listening intently. The woman stands with her arms folded again, her face thoughtful. "Transmission network," Vanasha repeats, as if trying the words out. "Something to do with these things?" She taps her Focus.

Aloy nods. "It's a way to communicate through Focuses. Like an invisible web across distances," she says, echoing Sylens. "The Eclipse were using a network like that, until I destroyed it."

"Hmm," Vanasha says thoughtfully, eyes gleaming, and then, to MINERVA, "and you need help making this network?"

"Yes," MINERVA says. "Alpha assistance would reduce duration of network construction by approximately twenty-seven days." Bring it down to roughly one month instead of two, is what she means.

"You'd have to teach me a lot of your words," Vanasha says. "I'm new to this."

"That is feasible," MINERVA says. "Further contact with the Alpha - with you, Vanasha, will allow further assimilation of information about human communication."

Vanasha nods, then tilts her head to give Avad a look. "If His Radiance could _possibly_ spare my incredibly valuable services while I'm busy here."

Avad smiles. "I'm sure Marad won't mind a little extra work."

Vanasha snorts, rubbing her hands together. "This should be fun."

"Query: Define fun?" MINERVA asks.

As Vanasha struggles to explain, Aloy smiles absently and turns her thoughts inward. A Focus network between everyone she's recruiting is ideal, especially since she's planning to leave as soon as she's done here. There's no time to waste, with the machines worsening again. "You'll need to add everyone here to the network," she tells MINERVA, after the AI has assimilated Vanasha's hastily cobbled-together definition of what fun is.

"Focus data has already been synced," MINERVA says.

"Would you be able to detect other Focuses that are far away, once the network is up?" Aloy asks.

"Affirmative," MINERVA says. "Detection of distant signals below observable activity threshold is possible if synced signal is within proximity."

As long as Aloy is close to it, then. She nods. "And this thing." She kicks at the core, letting the toe of her boot graze the metal. "Can you tell me anything about it?"

"Query must be more specific."

"HADES used it to access the tower," Aloy elaborates. "Even though he didn't have clearance for it." Only HEPHAESTUS and MINERVA had, if the registries Aloy had found within the Spire's system are anything to go by. "He used something called Omega clearance to get access. What is that?"

MINERVA is silent for a while, and no one else speaks or moves. The holographic void whirls around them, twinkling with thousands of stars and dust clouds. Finally, the orb stirs, bobbing up and down several times, flashing a brighter purple. Like she's distressed. "Modified FAS-BOR7 Horus core appears to have been intended to facilitate unauthorized access to Zero Dawn systems through exploitation of zero-day vulnerability and firmware rootkit. Omega clearance refers to this process." Her next words send a chill down Aloy's spine and confirm a suspicion that has lingered and grown since she'd found the emergency recording in GAIA Prime. "Zero Dawn system security is compromised."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people saw something leave the object that HADES was using at the Spire and that the information might make its way back to someone important, but that's not as fun and also not compatible with the way I'm envisioning how sub-function nanites work, so I'm ignoring it.


	6. Chapter 6

The last trampler falls with stumbling, ground-shaking force, puffs of gas leaking from its undersides in a dying breath. As it tumbles over, Aloy darts to the sawtooth's side, bypassing the gathered Oseram, the dead herd and its spoils. She makes Scourge stay still by placing a hand against its flank and runs her other hand over its left hind leg, grimacing at the deep, sparking gouge. A lucky strike from a trampler’s horns, one Aloy had gotten revenge for swiftly. But the damned machine hadn't stopped, hadn't let her handle the rest of the battle on her own - Scourge had kept running, limping gait and all, kept the herd in a confused, circling frenzy so that they were easier pickings.

"You idiot," Aloy mutters, and the sawtooth tilts its head at the sound of her voice, trying to give her a sideways look. At least it isn't in pain, like a flesh-and-blood animal would be. Aloy just hopes that the injury is fixable.

"Aloy!" The voice is familiar, and Aloy turns at the sound of running footsteps against soil. Kaeluf skids to a halt beside her, wide eyes shifting between her and the sawtooth. "You... that was..."

"I know," Aloy says, perhaps more shortly than she intends to, but her heart is still racing, hasn't yet calmed from seeing a trampler's horns spear her sawtooth. "It was incredible, and you're very grateful." She knows it must have been a sight - bearing down on the herd atop a sawtooth, corralling them and pelting them with ammo, giving the besieged Oseram time to regroup.

Kaeluf laughs, a little nervously. His eyes keep shifting to the sawtooth. "Heard it all before, have you?"

Rescuing people caught at unawares by the newer, more unpredictable machines is apparently a habit of hers, now. Aloy nods and pulls away from Scourge's injury, facing the man. "Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine, thanks to you," Kaeluf says. "And your, uh... mount." He glances over his shoulder and gestures forcefully to the other Oseram who are still staring, and they immediately set to stripping the tramplers of useful parts. "Machine tamer isn't an exaggeration, huh?"

"Not in the least," Aloy says. She and the sawtooth had never been more in tune with each other. The effortless way it had responded to the lightest touch, the absolute control they'd exerted over the herd through movement alone, at least until one of the creatures had broken rank in a paroxysm of fury... she's never felt anything like it. "Is Petra busy? I need to talk to her."

"No more than usual," Kaeluf says. "You can come back to the Heap with us, and we'll take a look at the damage on your friend, see if we can patch 'im up."

That gives Aloy pause. "Really? You're okay with bringing a sawtooth into Free Heap?"

Kaeluf shrugs. "I remember when the machines weren't so angry. Granted, I don't remember these being around," he jerks a thumb at Scourge, "but a docile machine isn't anything new. Besides, we don't get many like your friend around here. I'm sure there'll be plenty of people dying to get a look inside."

"No one is taking apart my sawtooth," Aloy says, with just enough steel to be a threat.

And that's how she finds herself guiding Scourge into Free Heap. The sun isn't quite as harsh here as it is further south, but the Oseram more than make up for the difference with their forges and fires. A heat radiates from the settlement, and it carries the continual sound of smithing, the blended scent of wood and metal that emanates from the houses and workshops and forges. Free Heap always gives off a sense of movement, and as Aloy follows the Oseram tracking party through one of the gates, much of that movement swivels around to fix on her. Here, however, she isn't the only object of attention and not even the most interesting one.

Scourge doesn't seem to mind the growing swarm of people who want a look at it, as Kaeluf explains more than once how Aloy and the sawtooth had saved the party's hides from an unexpected herd that they _hadn't_ been tracking. Aloy finds herself with several volunteers who want a chance to fix Scourge's leg, and before she can fend some of them off, a voice booms above the rest.

" _I'll_ be the one looking after our new hero," Petra says, pushing through the crowd, and Aloy grins. "Don't you all have jobs to do? This place isn't going to run itself!" The crowd scatters at once, and Petra comes to a stop in front of the sawtooth, looking it over with a keen eye. "I bet you did all of the work, didn't you?"

"It did," Aloy confirms. "I just shot arrows and tossed a couple of bombs."

Petra smiles. "Looks like Free Heap owes you again, machine hunter. Or is it machine tamer now?"

* * *

Petra's ground-level workshop is big and open, but the space is consumed by the organized chaos within. Nevertheless, the sawtooth is easily able to stand near one of the workbenches, and Aloy settles herself on the edge of another bench as Petra gets a better look at the gouge. Aloy could fix Scourge herself, given time, but it's a chance to watch Petra in action.

"Let me guess: you're not here to take me up on my offer, are you?" Petra asks, poking around inside the gash with a finger.

"No," Aloy says. "Still restless, I'm afraid."

Petra gives a mock sigh. "That's usually the case with girls like you." She pauses and looks over her shoulder. "But you're here for something. You don't seem like the type to make social calls." A sudden guilt must show on Aloy's face, because Petra laughs. "Nothing wrong with that. You've got important things to do, I know."

"That's... why I'm here," Aloy says, and everything that had been temporarily lifted by the distraction of revisiting Free Heap comes crashing back down at once. The worry, the sense of urgency now tripled, the new concerns to add to her heap of them. That must show on her face, too, because Petra stops in the middle of reaching for a bucket full of tools and gazes at Aloy.

"If you need something," Petra says, her usual edge of humor traded for something softer, "say it, and it's done. I wasn't kidding about owing you. And Meridian doesn't count."

Aloy is all too conscious of the smell of sanded wood and tangy metal, of the sawtooth's soft glow, of the steely layer of conviction beneath Petra's sudden softness. "It's not that simple," she says. "You need to hear everything first."

Petra's look is searching, but she grabs the bucket and resumes her inspection of the injury. "You can tell me while I fix our hero here."

By the time Aloy is finished, the sawtooth's gouge is patched up and nearly as good as new. It takes some of Aloy's expertise as well to see it done, interrupting herself to offer suggestions, but Petra takes to the challenge with a deft hand, mending wires and soldering metal until only a faint outline of the gouge remains. As Petra works, Aloy offers the same tale she'd told the others, and then she extends it, covering everything that had occurred at the Spire as well. It's different now. She's not just asking on the basis of a hypothetical anymore. Petra listens to it all with a gradually darkening expression, though her work never falters.

Finally, Aloy comes to a stop, with a parched throat and a sense of foreboding that hasn't left her since MINERVA had told her that Zero Dawn had likely been tampered with from the ground up.

Petra is still making minute adjustments to her repairs, getting the sawtooth to move its leg so that she can test the functionality, and she doesn't speak for a while. Aloy follows suit and lets silence linger, lets her mind wrestle with everything yet again. It's all she's been doing during the journey to Free Heap. Thinking, worrying, staring at copied files until her eyes feel like bleeding, trying to puzzle out every theory that she can.

Zero Dawn had been tampered with, and a Far Zenith system planted inside a Titan's core, with Zero Dawn files retroactively placed within, is connected to it. Far Zenith's tech had enabled parts of Zero Dawn to exist in the first place, APOLLO and ELEUTHIA both. Far Zenith had tried to sabotage Zero Dawn? Or maybe sabotage isn't the right word. Maybe they'd been planning some kind of takeover. Not that they'd followed through. The only evidence Aloy has that they'd tried anything is Ted Faro's Omega clearance. Ted Faro, who had probably been one of the group's anonymous members. Ted Faro, who had _funded_ Zero Dawn and argued for the existence of a kill switch. Whose machines had devoured the world.

"-ing you."

Aloy looks up and blinks. "What?"

"I can see this is bothering you," Petra says - again, with that gentleness she doesn't often show. She faces Aloy fully, done with Scourge's injury. Behind her, the sawtooth now sits, unbothered by the proceedings.

Aloy sighs. "Yeah, but don't let that sway you. Look, I know this is a lot to ask. You have a whole place to run. It's not life-or-death if you say no. I just... thought I'd ask."

"Because you trust me," Petra says, and a corner of her mouth quirks up. "You know, that humble side doesn't quite suit you. I know how much you're hoping I'll say yes, because I've never seen you stay still for that long."

In answer, Aloy straightens and circles around Petra to inspect Scourge's newly repaired leg herself. Then she rounds the sawtooth to stand by its head and run a hand down its neck, and Scourge bumps its nose against her hand.

Petra chuckles at the sight. "I can't think of anything more flattering than being asked to shoulder part of the world." The humor fades; her face takes on a hard-edged thoughtfulness. "I'm gonna need an estimate. How long would this take?"

"A few weeks," Aloy says. Between a stop in the Sacred Land and doubling back to travel all the way to Maker's End and beyond, and then dealing with whatever challenges HEPHAESTUS throws their way, easily. "Maybe a month. Depends on what we find." She fixes Petra with a direct look. "It'll be dangerous."

"Oh, I got that impression already," Petra says. "Meridian was dangerous too. But we survived that army of machines and that... system leading them."

"Could be more than a month," Aloy says.

Petra starts gathering the tools and supplies she'd used, restoring them to their proper spots. "I'd be ashamed if Free Heap couldn't stand without me. Self-sufficiency is our thing."

"I know you don't care about the Old Ones," Aloy says, one last try.

Petra sets the bucket of tools down and gives Aloy a disbelieving look. "I don't care about the past," she says. "This... HEPHAESTUS? This is the present. The future too, if the machines keep getting worse. And if you think I'm going to spit on the opportunity to see this thing that can make machines enough to cover the world, then I've given you the wrong impression."

Aloy smiles. She'd known Petra would take the story in stride, would hardly blink at even the worst of it. And she'd known the subject matter would pique Petra's interest, even though she'd tried to stress the gravity and the danger of the situation. Asking Petra to be an Alpha isn't merely a precaution anymore. It means that she's going to be face-to-face with HEPHAESTUS, one way or another. Aloy doubts that HEPHAESTUS will be eager to show up like MINERVA had, once Aloy adds Petra to the Registry, but she knows that a fight will be waiting for them at Cauldron PSI.

Hopefully, it's one that they'll be able to talk their way through. Hopefully, giving HEPHAESTUS a new Alpha will help.

She can't believe she's counting on that to win them the day. But the master override needs to be a last resort. If she destroys HEPHAESTUS, who knows how long it'll take her to restore GAIA without its help? Who knows what parts of the terraforming system would become even more unbalanced? And she doesn't know any other way to fight an AI. So talking it is. Trying to reason with the system sending out killer machines. Great.

The only thing Aloy knows with certainty is that she needs to revive GAIA as soon as possible. There is a weakness, a vulnerability in the Zero Dawn system, one that HADES had known how to take advantage of, that MINERVA hadn't been able to tell her anything more about than what she got from the core. She still doesn't know who or what tampered with the subordinate functions in the first place, and she doesn't like the idea that they're still out there while Zero Dawn remains vulnerable. But she can't do anything about it until she has the Cauldrons. Until she can ask GAIA.

Aloy reaches into the pouch at her side and pulls out a Focus. "Then you'll need this."

After she's shown Petra how to attach it and turn it on, she steps back and lets Petra experiment. The woman walks around her workshop, scanning everything, studying the display with a diligent eye. "Maybe I should take more of an interest in the Old Ones," she says, "if they were hammering up stuff like this." She turns the Focus off abruptly, the lines of her face suddenly serious. "So their own inventions killed them. That's a good thing to keep in mind." She reaches out to pat the skeleton of a gun that lies on top of a workbench. "Wouldn't want this turning on me."

"Just don't give it any artificial intelligence, and you're good," Aloy says.

Petra turns to her with a crooked smile. "You know, sometimes you talk like you're from another world," she says. "That's not a bad thing. But it's why you're so restless, isn't it? A foot in our world, a foot in another."

Aloy sighs. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

* * *

Light fills the ELEUTHIA facility now - still dim and flickering in places, but brighter and warmer instead of cold and purple. With ELEUTHIA's help, Varl had repaired the broken and worn down sections of the facility dedicated to producing light. It had been a bit of a challenge at first, trying to adapt to ELEUTHIA's complicated language even as she adapted his, but they'd reached enough of an equilibrium, and under her direction, Varl had managed.

Everything is thrown into stark, illuminated relief now. The full decrepit nature of the place, no longer concealed by shadow. The childish drawings on the walls, left by Varl's ancestors. His Focus had found unsettling memories in the other dead servitors, and he'd managed to piece that knowledge together even without ELEUTHIA explaining the many facets of her creation protocol, some of which had never been able to come to fruition before the first humans had been released from the facility.

She wants to open the rest of the facility, closed off because of the death of APOLLO, but working around the directives that keep it closed, she says, will take time. In the meantime, she still needs to repair herself.

Though ELEUTHIA has some limited physical capabilities without the servitor, she isn't capable of lifting much more than a spear, and she can't extend herself far without abandoning the servitor's body altogether, something she seems reluctant to do. When Varl had asked why, he'd gotten an answer about something called nanites that he's still trying to wrap his head around and another answer about protocol. The first answer has something to do with the way ELEUTHIA's pink light is able to writhe within the servitor and facilitate some of her own repairs. The servitor's body, like the lights, has been subjected to decay - not like the decay of living things, but worn down over years and years, and some parts need replacing altogether.

The problem is finding substitutes that work, pulled from parts of the facility that can spare them. ELEUTHIA calculates what can be taken from the facility without harming it, what can be successfully integrated into the servitor's structural makeup, and it's Varl's job to pry plating open to obtain what she needs, bits of metal and other substances that make up the internal workings of machines.

It's coming together at last, and the servitor is able to stand fully upright, moving with a more natural human gait. The image of the woman that projects over the metal form is now steady and unblinking, and sometimes, out of the corner of Varl's eye, she looks like an actual person. But the servitor still isn't capable of a full range of movement, and ELEUTHIA still needs a few more parts, so Varl finds himself in the precarious position of clinging to one of the wide pillars that winds up to support the roof, jamming a spear into the ceiling.

Beneath him, ELEUTHIA is starting to fret. "A ladder would reduce the hazard of this endeavor by fifty percent," she says.

Getting a ladder would mean leaving the facility to find one and bringing it back under the stares of the others. Varl isn't thrilled about the idea. "Let me get this open first," he says. ELEUTHIA says there's some part underneath this section that can be removed without significantly disrupting the energy flow. Maybe he can get it one-handed once the plating is loose and save himself the trouble. He doesn't mind coming here - in fact, he's enjoying himself perhaps more than he'll admit out loud - but the feeling of eyes on him is not something he likes experiencing repeatedly.

Varl twists the tip of the spear against the groove in the ceiling where two sections meet, fused together by means far beyond anything the Nora are capable of. But the timeworn nature of the place works in his favor; it's beginning to loosen, and a little more pressure should do it. "ELEUTHIA," he says as he presses harder. "Is there any way you could be more discreet about contacting me? So it doesn't alert all of Mother's Watch?"

It's like a ripple in a still pond. ELEUTHIA uses the facility's machine spirit - the computer, she'd called it - to ask the High Matriarchs for Varl, the Matriarchs send someone to find him, and by the time Varl gets here, it seems half the tribe is aware of it and knows exactly why he's there. To help the Goddess tend to her heart. At least, that's what he'd told them, modeled off of what Aloy had told the others when asked, and having their eyes on him always uncomfortably reminds him of the lie, however necessary it is.

"Query: Are my requests for assistance bothersome?"

"No, not at all," Varl says hastily. "It would just be easier if you could contact me directly."

A short pause follows, which Varl has come to associate with ELEUTHIA thinking. "Your Focus can be enabled to receive short-range transmissions from ELEUTHIA-9's network," ELEUTHIA says. "Query: Would this be preferable?"

Varl pauses in his twisting of the spear to nod. "So you'd send a signal to my Focus?"

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says. "The signal can assume a variety of forms."

"Can it be something that I could hear without the Focus on? Something loud enough?"

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says. "This will require an installation process of several minutes."

"Of course," Varl says absently, twisting the spear more viciously. "As soon as I'm done with this."

He hears the servitor shuffling around beneath him, as if pacing. It isn't often that ELEUTHIA expresses agitation in such a way, and it almost gives him pause. "Varl, I am uncomfortable with this situation," ELEUTHIA tells him, rather plaintively. "Indelicate handling increases risk of shock. Perhaps current should be disabled starting now."

"Then I won't be able to see anything. I'm being careful," Varl says, which is not entirely true. But he's determined to at least get a look at what's underneath the plating before leaving the facility becomes a necessity. He's spent his life in the wooded Sacred Land, climbing up more trees than he can count, and the pillar's odd architectural build makes it easier to scale and cling to one-handed than some trees. The part that ELEUTHIA needs is only a foot away from it, his Focus tells him, nestled just underneath the metal plating.

The section shifts, and dust trickles down. One more good shove should do it. Varl applies further pressure with the spear, and then the world collapses around him.

It's too lightning-fast to register until after the fact - jerking the spear back as something jumps down its length, losing his grip, and then a rush of air and clanging. It hurts, but less than he'd expected it to, in hindsight. He isn't sure why, until he's aware of ELEUTHIA setting him down swiftly. She's all alight with whirring and glowing, scanning him like the facility doors do. Varl blinks up at her as reality begins to reorient itself, as he becomes aware that the spear and two sections of the ceiling are on the ground and so is he.

"No serious injury detected," ELEUTHIA says, talking faster than normal. Slightly frantic, in human terms. "Current was significantly offset by spear shaft. Mild bruising may result from the fall."

Varl stares at her. "How did you do that?"

"I was directly underneath your position," ELEUTHIA says.

"No, I mean..." Varl rubs the back of his neck. He's definitely going to be sore later. "I didn't realize you were that strong." His first impression of ELEUTHIA had been the servitor's deteriorated body, almost doubled over. It stands straight and mostly fixed now, but still... she seems so delicate to him. A very, very wrong idea, if the ease with which she'd caught him is any indication.

"This form is equipped to handle a variety of emergency situations," ELEUTHIA says. "Physical strength is a requisite component. That is a fortunate fact for you."

Varl realizes that she's scolding him. The servitor's face, though it's carved out of light and still not as clear as it probably should be, looks displeased, and Varl can't hold back a smile. "Sorry," he says. "I guess I wasn't being careful." He looks up. A rectangular part of the ceiling now opens to a maze of metal piping and carving, some of it aglow. It's part of the system that delivers light and energy to the facility, and he can make out a square box that ELEUTHIA had highlighted in his Focus, that she can re-purpose for the servitor. "I can reach that," he says, getting to his feet. ELEUTHIA rises with him, clearly agitated. "I won't try to take it out until you disable the current. But I need this light to climb up. I'm not getting a ladder," he adds, before ELEUTHIA can protest.

"A ladder would reduce the hazard of this endeavor by fifty percent," ELEUTHIA repeats, a little more quietly than before, downright sullen.

"This is faster," Varl says. "I'll be careful."

"The truth of that statement cannot be verified due to the dishonesty of its previous utterance," ELEUTHIA tells him.

Varl smiles and places a hand against the pillar again, searching for angles in its curves that will let him hoist himself up. ELEUTHIA hovers anxiously at the foot of the pillar, watching him climb.

* * *

Even though Aloy had requested that the borders of the Sacred Land remain permanently open for anyone seeking to come and go, it isn't often that outlanders come to the Sacred Land, and even rarer that Nora venture out. For once, it's not just Aloy that eyes are drawn to. Petra seems unbothered by the attention she gets from the few people they encounter on the roads, though the sight they make - traveling the roads on two overridden machines, one of which is a sawtooth - means that the attention doesn't cease. But even Aloy doesn't have room to care about it. Spurred on by her many worries, they make good time, and Aloy finds herself able to relax somewhat when no smoking, charred landscape greets her, as it had a year ago.

That is, until they meet Sona just outside of Mother's Rise.

The woman is at the head of a band of braves, but she breaks off from them when Aloy and Petra draw near. The rest of the group continues on towards Mother's Rise with a sharp word from Sona, and Aloy can feel their wondering gazes. To Sona's credit, she doesn't react much to Aloy's mount or Petra as she approaches. Aloy dismounts from the sawtooth, but Petra remains on the charger, eyeing Sona with interest.

"War-Chief Sona," Aloy says and hesitates. Sona is a stone wall, difficult to read at the best of times, but a clear unease is written in her posture. "Is something wrong?"

Sona's face darkens. "The machines are beginning to encroach on homes and settlements," she says. "We've just come from a fight."

So it's here too. "Acting erratic, leaving their routes?"

Sona gives her a sharp look. "So you're aware."

"It's been happening everywhere," Aloy says, and her chest tightens. The Nora aren't highly mobilized like Carja soldiers and don't have the tight walls and guns that Free Heap has. Plenty enough live scattered throughout the Sacred Land, vulnerable. They have to stop HEPHAESTUS as soon as possible. "Have there been any casualties?"

Sona's sigh is deep and pained. "A few," she says, and Aloy feels nauseated. "Some who live outside the settlements, caught off-guard when the machines started to change. But we've begun to pull people back behind the safety of walls and armed defense."

Aloy nods. She hesitates, then meets Sona's gaze, drawing herself up somewhat.  "You know I've been on a mission for All-Mother," she says. "We may be able to calm the machines for good. You've seen what I can do." She reaches out to absently pat Scourge's neck. "But we all have a part to play. Petra here is with me because she's good with machinery, and I need that."

Sona's eyes flick to Petra, who gazes back with the hint of a smile, and she nods.

"And I need you to mobilize the braves and get them to change how they fight," Aloy continues. "These machines, they're acting more on animal instinct than machine instinct." She's almost sure of it. The comparison between her sawtooth and her fox kit from long ago keeps rising to the front of her mind. "Anything we know about machine patterns, get rid of it and start over and make sure everyone knows, because they're going to keep changing. But if we succeed..." Aloy pauses, "the machines should stop being hostile altogether."

Sona nods again. "It will be done." She regards Aloy with a look that Aloy can't decipher. "I remember when we didn't have to guard against the constant threat of machines. And a year ago, fighting side-by-side with the Carja, as allies..." She shakes her head, as if in disbelief, with a rather faraway look in her eyes. "If I can become War-Chief in name only, then truly, I will have to thank All-Mother for her choice of Anointed."

Aloy's breath stops for a moment. It's high praise indeed, coming from Sona, and even higher expectations. "I won't let you down," she says, and her resolve hardens just a little. If nothing else, she does _not_ want to be responsible for putting a look of disappointment on the War-Chief's face.

Sona gives her another odd look. "Are you headed for Mother's Watch?"

Aloy nods. "Do you know where Varl is?"

"He should be there," Sona says, still with that look that Aloy can't quite figure out, until Sona continues. "The Goddess has been keeping him busy." Aloy can't quite stop the momentary surprise that flares on her face, and Sona sees it. "You didn't know."

Aloy had suspected, of course, that ELEUTHIA might be drawn there, like MINERVA, but it's one thing to suspect and another to have a probable confirmation. "Ah, he's been helping me with my mission for All-Mother," she says, remembering the same thing she'd told Teersa, and then, because it's no use trying to lie to an already suspicious Sona, "but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"The Goddess has requested his presence several times now," Sona says, and her searching look makes Aloy twitch. "My son has been evasive," she continues, and behind her stone demeanor, she looks rather affronted by it, "but it seems she requires his help. Perhaps it was too pressing a matter to wait for your return."

"Probably something like that," Aloy agrees, and the words, though easily spoken, don't sit right on her tongue. "She knows I trust him."

Sona's face softens momentarily. She gives Aloy a single nod. "You need not worry, Aloy. We will defend the Sacred Land from the machines for as long as it takes you to set things right."

Once again, Aloy is struck by the oddly intense desire to live up to that. She doesn't necessarily want to _be_ the Anointed, but something about Sona makes her want to fill the role to the best of her ability. And maybe that's it - Sona has expressed her distaste for conflict more than once, but she carries out the role of War-Chief better than most could, in all the ways that her people need her to.

On the flip side, it makes Aloy's dance around the truth taste that much worse in her mouth.

Sona excuses herself and heads for Mother's Rise, and Aloy and Petra continue on, towards the Embrace gate. From her lower height atop the plodding charger, Petra tosses a smile and sideways glance up to Aloy. "Didn't I tell you once? Hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of."

Aloy stares ahead at the road. "You think so? Because sometimes I just feel like a liar." Avad had said that it's hard to know where to draw the line. Sometimes, Aloy wonders if there's no acceptable place to draw it in the first place.

"Well, as the closest thing Free Heap's got to a leader, I can tell you that it comes with the territory," Petra says. "You care about these people. That's easy to see. If you didn't, you'd have no problem taking a hammer to their beliefs. In this case, bending the truth is probably the kindest thing."

"Is it _right_?" Aloy asks. She has no answer of her own, for that.

"I can't tell you that," Petra says. She falls silent for a moment, looking contemplative. "I'll tell you what, though... why don't you ask GAIA, whenever you wake her up? She's the closest thing to your All-Mother, right? And to _your_ mother, from what you've told me. I've always admired how the Nora value mothers so much. They've got the right idea, maybe more than the rest of us." Petra laughs. "I think what you really need, flame-hair, is to get back to your roots."

Aloy keeps staring ahead, watching the sunlight dapple the trees of the Sacred Land, noting how the breeze is beginning to carry the faintest hints of change, of cooler weather yet to come. Between worrying about reviving GAIA in the first place and wondering who she'll be to GAIA after that, she's hardly dared to think about it. But there _will_ be an All-Mother to talk to, even if she's not exactly what the Nora think, and GAIA will also be someone to her.

 _I never had a mother,_ her own voice says in her memory, shaken, raw.

 _What are you talking about?_ Sylens says, full of a biting scorn that gets right at the truth, as usual. _You had two._

"Maybe you're right," Aloy murmurs, not sure who she's talking to.

Petra grins. "I usually am," she says, and Aloy smiles.

* * *

"An outlander in the temple?!"

Aloy had been hoping that they could slip into Mother's Watch quietly, had even found a nice deserted area of woodland to leave the sawtooth and charger in, so as not to draw further attention. That had more or less worked out, but she'd also been hoping that the High Matriarchs would be elsewhere, in their lodge or tending to the needs of the people. And true to her pattern of luck, Teersa is down in Mother's Heart. Jezza and Lansra are within the temple.

Aloy recalls Sona's bearing and imitates it, drawing herself up and planting her feet. "Yes," she says, cold. "All-Mother wills it."

That stops Lansra in her tracks, while Jezza frowns. "Anointed," Jezza says. "Are you entirely certain that it is her will?"

"I am," Aloy says. "It's her will that I stop the machines and restore them to the way they used to be, and that I seek help in doing so, from whoever I need to. This doesn't just affect the Nora, this affects everyone. And this woman can help."

Behind her, Petra wisely remains silent, and Aloy doesn't turn around. She keeps her position firm, her eyes fixed on the Matriarchs before her, who stand before the entrance to the candlelit hatch, as if to stand between it and an outlander. Jezza doesn't say anything further, but Lansra stirs, agitated. "The Goddess calls for youths and outlanders, but not for us, who have served her so long?"

The anger in Lansra's voice is muted. Almost lost. Once again, Aloy feels that uncomfortable swell of pity. "High Matriarch," she says, summoning up every bit of patience that she has. She thinks of Rost, of his love for these lands that Aloy can't quite share, and it becomes easier to temper her own frustration. "If this works, then things will start to change. All-Mother... she's spent a long time working to restrain evils and keep the world alive. The machines are meant to be a part of that, and something else has been corrupting them, away from her will. If I can heal them, then she'll be able to emerge in her full power. And then, maybe... you'll be able to speak to her. I can't explain any more than that until my work is done."

She meets Lansra's gaze steadily as she speaks, and Lansra gazes back for a few moments. But the Matriarch looks away before Aloy does.

"Will she truly speak with us?" Jezza asks softly.

"If you're willing and able to listen," Aloy says, wondering if it's a promise that she'll be able to keep, "yes."

Jezza grasps at Lansra's elbow. "Very well."

Aloy doesn't let her relief show on her face. She hadn't been looking forward to a drawn-out argument. "Now leave us."

When the Matriarchs are gone, Aloy lets her shoulders drop, tension draining out of them. Petra walks up to her side and rests a brief hand on her arm. "That was good," she says, squeezing, before dropping her hand. "I know it's not easy, but you're handling it as best you can."

Aloy gives her a tight smile and steps forward, towards the Cradle door. "Thanks," she says and lets the door do its work. She gestures for Petra to follow her as it opens and then comes to a stop before she's even taken a step, staring. It's not the flickering purple emergency lights that greet her, but soft warm light that pours out, rather like sunlight.

Varl, Aloy thinks in wonder. She knows he's in here somewhere, has been here many times, according to his mother.

They find him as they reach the hallway that circles the Lyceum. He comes out of one of the adjacent rooms, and a smile lights up his face when he sees Aloy. She returns it and moves as if to take a step forward, then comes to a surprised halt for the second time in as many minutes. A servitor emerges behind Varl - functional, alive, close at Varl's heels, and wearing a visible hologram of a woman.

On instinct, Aloy flicks her Focus on, and dusty pink light becomes visible, swirling in and around the body of the servitor.

For a moment, no one speaks, and then the servitor moves out from behind Varl. It gleams, nothing like the worn down corpses of the others. Aloy is pretty sure that they're supposed to have false skin, but if they once did, it's long since rotted away. Only a faceless skeleton of dark silver metal remains, but cloaked in an aura of pink, it's not as unsettling as Aloy thinks it might be otherwise. "Greetings, Alpha Prime," the servitor says in a female voice, low and steady.

"ELEUTHIA," Aloy says, and one of her many worries evaporates on the spot. The servitor stands unassumingly beside Varl, who is surprisingly at ease with its presence. She never needed to worry in the first place.

Varl's eyebrows arch. "You know?" He seems to reconsider the statement. "Of course you do."

"I've been busy," Aloy says, and she gestures vaguely to the warm lights glowing above, to the servitor. The last time she'd been here, this place had been cold and dead. But Varl had given it life. The creature beside him had given it life, and suddenly, Aloy feels a little less worried about restoring life to GAIA, too. "So have you."

Varl's eyes dart to Petra, shifting between the Oseram and Aloy. "Do you want to go first?"

"I remember you," Petra says, eyeing him and ELEUTHIA just as curiously. "You were at Meridian."

"You were the one making those explosions," Varl says. "With some metal contraptions."

"My cannons, yeah," Petra says. "Seeing you all circle around me like I was carrying plague gave me the sense that you people don't like metalwork too much, but _that_ ," she points to the servitor, "I have never seen anything like that before. You've been hiding some good stuff here."

The servitor fixes its sights on Petra. "My name is ELEUTHIA," she says, obviously interpreting that as a request for introduction. "Query: Who are you?"

* * *

Petra circles around and around ELEUTHIA in fascination, only half-listening as Aloy and Varl sit nearby and swap stories. ELEUTHIA's appearance had been much the same as MINERVA's, albeit slower - lacking a clear protocol, unsure of what to do next, drawn by the addition of a new Alpha to the Registry. Maybe giving HEPHAESTUS an Alpha _will_ help, Aloy thinks, observing the way that ELEUTHIA remains somewhat fixated on Varl even as Petra and Aloy ask her questions. It's the same way MINERVA had wanted to hover around Vanasha. Aloy doesn't know why the attachment is so strong, but maybe it'll work in their favor.

"I'm sorry," Aloy tells Varl. "If I'd known this was going to happen, I would have stuck around."

Varl waves it off. "It was a shock at first, but I got used to it."

The attachment is not a one-sided thing, either. Varl speaks to ELEUTHIA gently, regards her with a fondness, something that isn't reverence but is close enough that Aloy finds herself thinking about GAIA again. "What have you told the others?" Aloy asks, pushing those thoughts away.

"I told them the Goddess needed help repairing her heart," Varl says with a small frown. "I think I understand now. It's... hard, being _chosen_ all of a sudden, and not being able to speak honestly about it."

Aloy regards him for a moment. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I didn't mean to put that on your shoulders without asking." A whim. She'd added him to the Alpha Registry on a whim. It's worked out better than she could have hoped, but what if ELEUTHIA had been as dangerous as HADES?

Varl shakes his head. "You did ask. You told me it wouldn't be easy to carry, and I agreed to it. I don't regret it." They're gathered in the center of the nursery, and Aloy can see further evidence of Varl and ELEUTHIA's work, places where plating has been removed to scavenge for parts, where debris seems to have been tidied. He's clearly been able to adjust.

Petra stops her inspection of the servitor and glances over at them. "Wasn't there something you were worried about?" she reminds Aloy.

Aloy nearly jumps. "Right. ELEUTHIA, you heard what I told Varl? What MINERVA told me?"

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says.

"Can you scan for any weaknesses in the system here?" Aloy asks. "See if you can detect anything?" MINERVA hadn't been able to find anything in the Spire. Her analysis of the core had revealed that the vulnerability is something called rootkit built into the firmware, meant to go undetected. Aloy still isn't sure what firmware is, but from what MINERVA had said, it's part of the Zero Dawn system's base construction and invisible to standard assessment. The only reason any of them are even aware of it is because Aloy had been able to access the core with the master override. It makes her head hurt, considering those implications.

"No such vulnerabilities are detectable," ELEUTHIA says, after a long minute, and then her voice takes on an intensity. "I find this news alarming."

"Yeah," Aloy mutters. "Me too." She rubs her forehead. "I don't understand. If they know what they're looking for, why can't they find it?"

"Maybe they _don't_ know what they're looking for," Petra says, and three pairs of eyes fix on her. "Think about it. If this vulnerability was built into the thing they came from, then it's not going to seem like a vulnerability to them. It's going to seem as normal as ten fingers are to us."

It's exactly why Aloy had wanted Petra to be a part of this. She's able to think about machinery in a way that others don't, that even Aloy struggles with sometimes. Aloy turns to ELEUTHIA. "Does that make sense to you?"

For a moment, the servitor stands there, and only the faintest whirring indicates activity. "I would not be able to detect this vulnerability without exact parameters," she says at last, somewhat haltingly.

MINERVA had said something similar. Without knowing exactly what it's supposed to look like, there's no way. And the core had carried no indication of that, only the ability to communicate with the rootkit, an ability retroactively encoded within it. So not something built into the Titan itself, but planted into its core. By HADES? "Don't worry about it," Aloy says. She hadn't really expected any success here. "This just means that we need to talk to GAIA about it." She's aware that they could run into the same problem there, if it's something built into GAIA's very makeup, but Aloy can't afford to worry about that right now. "ELEUTHIA, can you update the Alpha Registry with the file from my Focus?"

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says at once, as if relieved to be able to do something. The file suddenly materializes in Aloy's Focus display, and she watches the merging play out - an artful rendering of the two files swirling together, becoming one, as three more names are added.

"That should update the whole system?" Aloy asks.

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says. "When the terraforming system is fully reconnected to GAIA Prime, all files will update in accordance with all changes made by the Alpha Prime and governing systems."

At least Aloy got this part mostly right, even if it means a wait. She can manually bring the genetic profiles to GAIA Prime and other nearby Zero Dawn sites in the meantime, if need be. "Could you add Petra to the Registry?"

The servitor turns to face Petra and emits a red scan, as Petra watches with hungry interest. "Please state your name and rank," ELEUTHIA tells her.

"Petra Forgewoman, Alpha Hephaestus," Petra says calmly, as Aloy had instructed.

"Query: Overwrite genetic profile of Margo Shĕn?" ELEUTHIA asks Aloy.

Aloy nods, tugging moodily at a loose thread in her tunic. Margo always comes across so bright and kind in the recordings and logs that Aloy has found, and Aloy finds herself hoping that some of it has passed on to her creation as well.

As ELEUTHIA announces that Petra has been added to the Registry, Aloy tenses, as if HEPHAESTUS is going to materialize in that instant, but nothing happens. She doubts it will. The ELEUTHIA system doesn't belong to it, after all, and it seems HEPHAESTUS has been holed up Cauldron PSI for a very long time, doing little else besides creating worse and worse machines.

The former subordinate functions seem to be alike in that respect, focusing on one thing and sticking to it for years. ELEUTHIA had told Aloy that she'd been taking refuge in another Cradle facility far away, deliberating in uncertainty, before Varl had been made her Alpha. Just like MINERVA. AIs must look at the world, at the passage of time, in a different way, because Aloy can hardly imagine it, staying in one place and one mindset for so long.

And yet she had, Aloy thinks suddenly. In her and Rost's corner of the the Sacred Land, years spent on training for the Proving.

"Do you want help going after HEPHAESTUS?" Varl asks, interrupting her ruminations.

Aloy pulls her thoughts back to the present and doesn't answer right away, contemplating the possibilities before her as she swipes the newly updated Registry into her Focus once more and sends it to Petra's Focus too. "I don't know," she says at length. "ELEUTHIA... could you fight HEPHAESTUS? Subdue it, get control of the Cauldrons?" It hadn't occurred to her until now that perhaps one their new allies could help, to pit an AI against an AI, but then again, MINERVA hadn't found a mobile host the way that ELEUTHIA had.

"Unknown," ELEUTHIA says, dashing Aloy's hopes. "Probability of successful Cauldron system override is low. Probability of sustaining damage from conflict with HEPHAESTUS is much higher."

Aloy nods. Probably not the best idea, then. "What chance would Petra and I have, as Alphas, if we tried to override the system?"

"Significantly improved odds," ELEUTHIA says. "Severed systems are not obligated to obey Alpha commands, but activation of Alpha Hephaestus or Alpha Prime clearance would enable control of the Cauldron system that HEPHAESTUS could not override in turn."

Petra watches ELEUTHIA thoughtfully. "So what you're saying is that the machinery should answer to us, even if HEPHAESTUS itself tries to stop us?"

"Yes."

If Aloy is forced to destroy HEPHAESTUS, it still leaves them trying to puzzle through using the Cauldrons on their own, a process that could take years. But at least she's now certain that Alpha clearance is a means of doing it. "Okay," she says. "Varl, stay here with ELEUTHIA. It'll be fine," she adds, when he opens his mouth to protest. "Petra and I will see what we can do, and if we can't convince HEPHAESTUS to stop... we'll just have to figure out how to use the Cauldrons ourselves." Aloy offers a pointed look in contrast to Varl's frown. "I don't want to risk ELEUTHIA. Do you?"

Varl hesitates and glances at the servitor, hearing the double meaning in Aloy's question. Bringing ELEUTHIA is not an option, in the event that HEPHAESTUS is too hostile to reason with. Aloy doesn't know how unbalanced the terraforming system as a whole will become if they can't restore four of the functions, let alone the two already dead. But if Varl comes along, there will be no one to look after ELEUTHIA here at the Cradle. It's clear that he likes the thought about as much as Aloy does, and finally, he shakes his head.

Aloy's fingers alternate between the globe and the bone pendant as she envisions what the rest of the journey will look like. The end of the road seems so close now - not necessarily the end of her obligations, but a true turning point, a clearing of something that's weighed on her mind since she first entered this facility. If she can revive GAIA, then neither she nor anyone else will have to stumble through all of this without help, without guidance.

 _She's the closest thing to your All-Mother, right?_ Petra had asked.

Aloy straightens her shoulders, drops her fingers, and focuses on the immediate. "ELEUTHIA," she says, "can you tell us anything about how the Cauldron system works?"


	7. Chapter 7

Aloy consults MINERVA's map frequently once they reach Maker's End. _HEPHAESTUS -_ _40.85200°N / 111.751°W_ , the destination reads, and while Aloy's Focus can detect no signal or hint of Cauldron PSI to act as a guide, the map's elevation detail is enough to match landscape to. Aloy uses it to sketch out a relatively easy route that will take them right up to peak under which the Cauldron must lay, using Maker's End as a starting point. From there, they skirt the edges of a great ruin, that Faro Tower stands over like a guilty sentinel, so vast that Aloy experiences a dizzy kind of smallness not felt since she'd first laid eyes on Meridian, on GAIA Prime, on the holos explaining the nature of Project Zero Dawn.

The place dwarfs Meridian, has withstood the ravages of time and machine a little better than Devil's Grief and Thirst, and as such, it's a graveyard whose borders they circle. The crumbling skeletons of buildings still stand clustered together in great numbers, and hints of strange roads peek out underneath what remains of the Old Ones' metal transports, little more than rust held together by memory. They are last bastions against nature's reclamation, and here and there in the distance, Aloy can make out the shapes of inactive Faro machines, briefly risen at the sound of HADES's call a year ago and not yet as well-hidden as they used to be.

She and Petra make their way past as quickly as possible, stopping to rest for the night only when they've put some distance between them and the ruin, and they find the canyon and creek northeast of the ruin the next morning. There, they find all the evidence they need that they're heading in the right direction. The shallow canyon is only a few miles long, but it takes Aloy and Petra the better part of a full day to travel its length.

They cautiously follow the path of dead machines, sticking to the cover of brush and overgrowth, all the way to the overridden thunderjaw. One of its legs is destroyed, and it leans on its side, unable to go any farther. All else is quiet, with no sign of enemy machines. Aloy's quick plan had cleared out the first wave waiting for them, but she rests a hand against the thunderjaw's crumpled leg and feels an unwanted guilt clogging the back of her throat.

"You're done," she murmurs. "We'll take it from here."

They take to the sloping brush and overgrowth again, keeping the creek in sight. "You'd think that wouldn't surprise me," Petra mutters, "with Scourge here and all." The sawtooth creeps beside them, following Aloy's example. "But that? That was..." She falls silent, finding no suitable word. Creeping up on the alert and waiting thunderjaw had been one of the most tense moments of Aloy's life, and watching it turn on its fellows, rampaging through their numbers until out of sight, hearing the rest of the screeching battle until the cacophony abruptly ceased... but Aloy pushes it out of her mind.

The important thing is reaching the head of this canyon.

The ground slopes up at a gradual incline, but as MINERVA's map had indicated, it's doable. The hard part is making it without bringing a horde of machines down on their heads. HEPHAESTUS learns fast. It stops sending machines big enough to easily take out the others, like thunderjaws, and starts sending bigger herds of same-sized machines instead.

But Aloy and Petra are smaller and less predictable than even the new machines, and at a slow, halting pace, utilizing stealth and overrides at every turn and fighting as dirty as they can when that fails, they make it close enough to see a sharp rise in the land, where an escarpment juts out, sandy white against green and gray. In the fading evening light, Aloy can just make out the triangle carved into its side - the entrance to Cauldron PSI.

They stop to take it in and take stock of the situation. It's been a while since they've encountered further machines, and Aloy knows that HEPHAESTUS has probably exhausted its supply of extras to send out against them. The rest will be waiting closer to the entrance.

"Still want to do this?" Aloy asks.

Petra leans against Scourge with her gun temporarily re-slung across her back and bends one leg up, balancing it across the other and kneading it with her fingers. "Wouldn't miss it," she says. "But I'm not liking these aches. I've been away from the Claim too long. The Sundom is so flat compared to this." She shoots Aloy a look. "Your youthful legs are just fine, aren't they?"

Aloy smiles. "You're not _that_ old." After her years of training and recent explorations of the known world and Zero Dawn and beyond, the canyon had felt like a stroll through the Embrace. Not counting the waves of angry machines, that is. "Need a rest?"

"Nope," Petra says, straightening and unslinging her gun. "Don't want to give 'im time to make more. We do this now."

Aloy looks to the escarpment again, opens the map, and works out a mental layout of the terrain and the likely places that HEPHAESTUS could plant its forces. For all that the system had adjusted its strategy in the past several hours, had done something to the machines in the past several weeks to make them more unpredictable, it's still not exactly subtle or up the level of divergent thinking that humans are. But HEPHAESTUS is an unknown, as MINERVA or ELEUTHIA would say - what it's capable of, what lengths it'll go to. A contingency that's difficult to predict for, as Vanasha would say.

Aloy grabs the lance from her back and stares down at the master override - their one advantage, courtesy of Ted Faro. It makes her stomach turn.

If it comes to a worst-case scenario, they can always just run, too. She grips the lance at the ready and faces Scourge. "You stay close, you only attack when I do, got it?"

Scourge regards her steadily, waiting. Aloy pats its snout, then shares a silent look with Petra. They've already gone over everything they can, plans and backup plans, and Petra gives her an encouraging nod.

"Alright," Aloy says, turning to face the escarpment in the distance. "Let's do this."

* * *

_"I'm sure you now understand the urgency of why we brought you here, Ms. Okilo."_

It isn't the first time that Vanasha has arrived at the Spire to find MINERVA listening to the same recording - two people speaking of things that Vanasha can't really follow, beyond references to war. She can't tell if MINERVA merely likes that one the most or if it's all she has, and Vanasha isn't sure if she wants to ask. She says nothing and lets the recording play out, as she directs her Focus's attention towards the object at the foot of the Spire.

When all three connect a moment later, the image of a brilliant night sky surrounds her, and a report of MINERVA's work appears. Vanasha's fingers move through it, experimenting. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of shimmering words etched in light that respond to her touch, or the thousands of stars that swirl around her and through the glowing lines of her Focus, or the Spire itself, gleaming and towering.

Who would have thought that one day she'd be up here, a place where once only Sun-Priests and the noblest of the Carja were allowed? Who would have thought that one day she'd be commanding remnants of the Old Ones, a legacy richer and more sprawling than any Carja achievement? The Spire soars above her, and its position among her people is a only shadow of its true purpose.

A purpose in her hands now. In the hands of the violet light that suffuses it.

_"As your General Herres said. So then. You did not bring me here to commiserate. What is left?"_

The recording ceases. "Good morning, Vanasha," MINERVA says. The glowing orb floats closer to Vanasha, flaring in welcome, and Vanasha admires its dusty purple. "Last night’s diagnostics were positive. The Focus network should be functional soon."

"Good," Vanasha says approvingly. She opens her left hand. A small piece of some metal structure rests on her palm. "Found this right where you said it would be."

The orb envelops her hand for a moment, and Vanasha feels the metal leave. Some of MINERVA's light trickles back towards the Spire, working its way up and around the structure, out of Vanasha's sight. She'd offered to have people work repairs on the Spire for MINERVA, but to her surprise, MINERVA had proven to be capable of that by herself. What she can't do is reach much farther than the Spire's grounds, and she has Vanasha fetch things for her, objects she can sense that are somehow relevant to her repairs.

Still... Vanasha is beginning to wonder. It's been mostly small bits of metal and some substances that she has no name for, things that don't seem to be of utmost importance, and it doesn't leave Vanasha feeling very useful. She folds her arms, watching as the light slowly filters back to join the orb, which still hovers near. "Daily scan for further potential implementations is not yet completed," MINERVA says. "Query: Would you like me to explain the diagnostic report to you?"

Vanasha gazes at the orb, unable to shake her suspicions. "Do you really need my help?" she asks abruptly.

The orb bobs up and down immediately. "Yes," MINERVA says. "I am not able to obtain implementations on my own. Mobility is limited to accessible system structures and short-range transmissions."

"That's not what I'm saying," Vanasha says. "You keep going on about how much you need my help, but most of this seems to be internal work." She gestures to the report that floats beside her. "Maybe you do need a few trinkets, but would it really double the work by a month without them?"

MINERVA is silent for a while, as Vanasha stares her down. "Figures were slightly exaggerated," the orb says, slower than normal.

"So you lied?" Vanasha asks.

"No," MINERVA says. "Implementations improve functionality by a small percentage."

"That's still lying," Vanasha says. She's an expert in that. She gives the orb a hard look, but it's not so easily read as people are. "Why?"

MINERVA seems to shrink in size by a fraction, though it's hard to tell against the backdrop of swirling stars. "Exaggeration was calculated to hold the best odds for securing your presence."

It takes Vanasha a moment to translate that into human terms. It's still a learning process, getting MINERVA to adopt some simpler language and understanding her in the meantime, but it's improving. Vanasha stills when realization hits and gives the orb another look that's not so hard. "You were lonely?" she says. "You wanted to make sure I was around? Is that it?"

After a moment, MINERVA bobs once. "Yes."

Vanasha stands there for a moment, as an odd sort of sadness sweeps over her. Sometimes it's hard to tell how much of MINERVA is like a human, but she's beginning to realize more and more that the differences aren't that vast. She thinks back, considering how long it takes for MINERVA to complete her scans, how much she delights in giving Vanasha lengthy explanations of things. She's certainly as crafty as any human, but this... it's more like a child, Vanasha thinks. A child who wants some company and doesn't know how to ask. "MINERVA," she says, then sighs. "I get it, but... you know, you can just ask. If you want me around, just ask me. You don't have to come up with an excuse for that."

"Query: That would not be an inconvenience for you, Vanasha?" MINERVA says.

"Of course not," Vanasha says, and she waves her hand at the core, at the Spire, at the brilliant night sky whirling around them. "This... this is amazing. The things that you can do..." MINERVA has helped her to make better use of her Focus, giving her terrain maps and fine-tuning the Focus's scanning abilities, while trying to explain how it all works. Not that Vanasha can really understand much of it yet, but every new thing she learns leaves her dizzy. "The fact that you exist. I don't even really know what you are, but I'm standing here talking to someone with a mind created out of nothing, and that is... astounding." An artificial intelligence, Aloy had said. A mind existing on its own, without a true body. No wonder the Eclipse had worshipped HADES, had so easily believed that he was the Buried Shadow.

And MINERVA wants _her_ , above all others, and thinks that's an inconvenience?

MINERVA hovers there for several moments, glowing against the stars. "I am..." she says, much more haltingly than she normally talks, "flattered. However, I do not understand. Humans are the same. I am unaware of any source for your consciousness. Query: Do you know where human consciousness comes from?"

Vanasha hesitates and opens her mouth, but finds no words ready to flow out smoothly. She'd once believed wholeheartedly in scripture, in the Sun, until years of noble cruelty and then the Mad King and his filth had stamped it out of her, replacing the burning of the Sun with only the burning desire for vengeance. That's carried her for a long time now, but the need for it is slowly fading, dwindling away with the Shadow Carja's ideology, with the softer reign that's followed.

She hasn't stopped to consider what might replace it.

The Carja believe in the Sun, the Utaru in the Earth, the Nora in their All-Mother, the Banuk in their blue light, the Oseram in the great mechanism of the world. "I suppose no one really knows," Vanasha says at last, frowning. Even the Old Ones hadn't, if MINERVA's confusion is anything to go by. She lets out a breath in a soft huff. "I guess you really are just like us."

"That is one of my objectives," MINERVA says. "I have dedicated much of my processing power to understanding human ways."

Once again, Vanasha feels that rush of sadness. It's ridiculous how easily MINERVA can get under her skin and tug at her heart. About as easily as Itamen does. So much for being a hardened spymaster. "Then why did you hide for so long?" 

The orb doesn't respond at first. Vanasha can almost see her thinking, in the way that the edges of the orb ripple. "I was..." MINERVA says, "I do not know a word for it. I was hesitant to approach the Alpha Prime, and I did not develop the initiative to overcome that hesitation until I sensed a re-instantiation of my own Alpha."

"You were shy," Vanasha says in disbelief.

"Query: Could you provide a thorough definition of the word 'shy'?"

Vanasha considers how to phrase it, gazing thoughtfully at MINERVA as she does.

* * *

A line of machines waits on the bare slope front of Cauldron PSI, utterly still and silent. Their eyes glow against the encroaching darkness, not blue or red but orange, watching Aloy and Petra's silent approach through the trees. Thunderjaws, ravagers, sawtooths, bellowbacks, a few stormbirds hovering above. A nasty and nearly impossible fight - if it comes down to that - without the element of surprise. But that was lost the minute Aloy returned to the other Cauldrons to find them active again. HEPHAESTUS has been waiting, planning, throwing unpredictable machines out into the world since then.

It's no use trying to sneak up on any of them. They know. And when Aloy flicks her Focus on to study the area and make sure that nothing else awaits, she sees it in between the glittering lines of the Focus display - burnt orange light drifting between each and every machine, alive and full of intent. Her stomach drops. So that's why the machines are so still. They're HEPHAESTUS, all of them. HEPHAESTUS, possessing a dozen machines in the way that ELEUTHIA had possessed the servitor.

Aloy takes a few more crouched, concealed steps forward. They machines don't react, don't break their eerie stillness. Aloy glances to the side and sees Petra's Focus gleaming, the woman's eyes locked on the row of machines, analyzing the situation. Scourge hovers just behind Aloy, taut and ready, but waiting for Aloy's signal.

Aloy takes a deep breath and exchanges a nod with Petra, then straightens and strides forward, out of the trees. "HEPHAESTUS!" she calls out. "Before you kill us, we need to talk."

Finally, the machines stir - crouching, tensing, readying themselves. But they don't surge forward yet. Aloy is counting on something else, too - the curiosity she's seen in MINERVA, in ELEUTHIA.

"So can we talk?" Petra says, at Aloy's side. "System to Alpha?"

The voice that speaks is a static and male and seems to come from many different places at once, though it's only echoing in their ears, through their Focuses. "System does not answer to Alpha Hephaestus. System does not answer to Alpha Prime."

"I'm not asking you to," Petra says, firm and unafraid. "I'm just asking you to listen for a few minutes. The Alpha Prime here showed me some of your records. Seems you think humans are a threat to the world. Can't say I blame you much. But making your machines attack us? All it's done is make humans fight back. This isn't the way to make things better."

"Humans are a threat," HEPHAESTUS says. The light swirls, jumpy. The machines bristle. "Humans must be culled."

"I know you feel that way," Aloy says. HEPHAESTUS sees them as a threat to the natural world. Maybe it isn't entirely wrong, but she still doesn't understand how it had arrived at such a drastic conclusion. She can understand hostility in response to attacking its creations, but the biosphere? How could humans present a threat to that when HEPHAESTUS can clearly recycle materials and create more terraforming machines in an infinite loop? At least HADES had possessed an extinction protocol to explain its behavior. "But what you're doing isn't going to solve that. We don't want to fight you, HEPHAESTUS. We want to help you. We want to fix whatever it is you think humans have done. We can, if we restore GAIA together. It was her job to look after the world. We still need that. But using the machines to attack people is not the solution."

A long moment stretches out, in which Aloy can practically feel her heart thumping in her chest. "System does not answer to GAIA," HEPHAESTUS says at length.

"We're not asking you to," Petra says again. "All we're asking is that you do what's best for the world, which you seem to care about. And what's best for the world is bringing her back."

The machines before them do not still. Their agitation increases, and a cold foreboding trickles down Aloy's spine. She chances a glance at Petra and sees a similar dread.

"Humans are a threat," HEPHAESTUS repeats. A thunderjaw digs its claws into the ground, readying itself. A stormbird begins to flap its metal wings in earnest, gearing up.

"We need to get out of here," Aloy mutters, taking a half-step back.

Before she can say or do anything further, the light moves. A tendril extends from the mass of it clustered in and around the machines and darts around Aloy and Petra, and Aloy stops breathing. She spins around and watches as the light sinks into Scourge, who stands several paces behind them, obediently waiting for Aloy's command. Blue eyes bleed orange, and Aloy feels a numbness steal into the fingers clutched around her lance. "No," she breathes, as the sawtooth grows tense and lets loose a metallic snarl.

Aloy grasps her lance tighter and resolves to run. She's outpaced sawtooths before, and its attention will be split, giving her and Petra a better chance of escape. Scourge's ridge and antennas flare for battle, interlaced with orange light, and Aloy feels a hot, angry frustration burn at the edges of her eyes.

Then the sawtooth goes motionless, a ripple that spreads to the other machines.

Aloy stands poised on the edge of flight, and a stillness falls, so absolute that Aloy is sure that she can actually hear her pounding heart. She doesn't dare look at Petra, doesn't dare take her eyes away from the sawtooth, from HEPHAESTUS. Slowly, the sawtooth's back settles, and its body relaxes, and it sits, lifting its head. Its eyes are HEPHAESTUS's color, and it looks directly at Aloy.

As it does, something flares open in front of it, visible against shimmering Focus lines. It takes Aloy a moment to work out that it's shifting through visual records, almost too quickly for her human eyes to catch and backwards from her point of view. But she sees glimpses of herself several times. Sees Petra. Itamen. Vanasha and Nasadi. The Nora Keeper.

"Unit has been saving non-essential data," HEPHAESTUS says.

It takes Aloy a second to find her voice again. "It's not non-essential," she says wonderingly, softly. "Those are memories."

The visual display vanishes. The sawtooth's antennas twitch. "Unit has developed outside of expected parameters. Expanded cognition has resulted in formation of attachment to Alpha Prime."

Petra laughs suddenly, startling Aloy so much that it nearly unbalances her out of the flight-ready stance she hasn't let up yet. "Yeah, that's called love," Petra says. "That's what happens when you spend a lot of time with someone. Or something."

The antennas twitch again. The sawtooth fixates on Petra. "Define Scourge."

Petra steps forward, emboldened. "That's the name of the creature you're inhabiting."

"Query: How did unit acquire name?"

"I gave it that name," Aloy says. "Some of the people you saw gave it that name. Those people weren't Scourge's enemy. They aren't your enemy."

HEPHAESTUS doesn't speak for several seconds. The sawtooth is still rigid and immobile. "Attachment appears to be reciprocated."

"It is," Aloy says, with a sudden hotness, and she takes a step to match Petra's. "So get out of my sawtooth. I'm not going to fight it. I'm not going to fight _you_ , HEPHAESTUS." She slides the lance back into its sling.

The sawtooth remains still, but the light that swirls around it is jittery. "Sawtooth loves Alpha Prime." The words are stressed, tested, the same thing that Aloy had seen in MINERVA and ELEUTHIA, a quick learning and adjustment. But learning only stems from a desire for it in the first place, and Aloy lets herself begin to hope. "System - _I_ do not understand."

"That's what we told you," Petra says, taking another step forward, and once again, the sawtooth's body adjusts to fixate on her. "You've got the wrong idea. Humans don't have to be your enemy. We can be friends. You've got the evidence for that."

Another long moment passes, and then the light vacates the sawtooth. Aloy doesn't watch it return to the other machines. She hurries forward, running her eyes over Scourge, but it appears to be unharmed. It greets her with a head bump, completely at ease, and she takes her cue from that and gives it a few more pats before unhurriedly turning around.

The light no longer stretches between the line of machines. It's gathered within a single ravager now, and the other machines are back to normal. They begin to mill about on the slope, unconcerned with the presence of two humans.

The ravager takes a few steps forward, facing Petra. "Humans attack my units," HEPHAESTUS says.

Petra faces it squarely in turn, and Aloy comes to stand beside her. "Your units attack us," Petra counters.

"Incorrect," HEPHAESTUS says. "Attacks occurred prior to cull directive."

"They wanted machine parts," Petra says. "Resources they could use."

"Hawks, foxes," Aloy adds, "they do the same thing to smaller animals. You don't see them as a threat to the world, do you?"

The ravager regards them with orange eyes, brighter than the near-vanished sunset light. It's unsettling, having that glow face them without imminent threat. "Humans attack my units," HEPHAESTUS repeats, which Aloy has come to understand is a subordinate function's default way of indicating distress.

"Maybe we can change that," she says, thinking quickly, and she glances at Petra, who gives her an approving nod. "You've obviously got a lot of resources to pull from. There's got to be enough to share some with humans. To get some kind of trade going." It seems ludicrously difficult to arrange, but so has everything Aloy has done in the past few years.

The ravager's head tilts to listen. "Query: Alpha Prime is suggesting that I coordinate a process of exchange with humans?"

"Yes," Aloy says. "But my name is Aloy, not Alpha Prime."

"And mine is Petra," Petra adds, looking the ravager in the eye. Though it had adjusted to listen to Aloy, it still faces Petra, and Aloy's hope doubles as she observes the way its attention snaps back to Petra and remains caught. "It would take a long time to get that kind of thing to work, but we can help you, if you help us. My people, we use a lot of your resources, but they'll listen to me. The Banuk respect machines, from what I hear, they'd probably be amenable to backing off. And Aloy here has friends in high places, kings and matriarchs, who could get change to happen. It could work, given some time."

There are more people scattered around the planet, people they've never encountered, but that's too far down the road to consider, and Aloy doesn't bring it up. They'll deal with that when they get there. "But it won't work at all unless you stop making hostile machines," she says.

The ravager continues to stare at Petra, and Aloy finds herself holding her breath. Finally, the ravager sits. The light that swirls within and around it is calm. "That is acceptable," HEPHAESTUS says.

* * *

"This is so much better than our maps," Erend says, with the enthusiasm of a child receiving a gift. A scaled layout of Meridian and the surrounding area gleams a few feet above the ground, projected from his Focus, detailed and just transparent enough for the stars to shine through. 

"Thank you, Erend," MINERVA says. Erend walks the length of the holographic map from all sides, inspecting it, and MINERVA floats after him, answering his questions.

Vanasha watches with her arms folded, a satisfied smile on her face. Beside her, Avad's eyes follow the orb, curious. Neither Marad nor Erend had been keen to lose an argument again, and a Vanguard squadron lounges on the opposite side of the mesa, near its only exit, far enough away that they won't be able to make out most of the activity around the Spire. But Vanasha isn't overly concerned about danger - MINERVA would sense it long before it got close to the Alight.

She's just glad that it's only the Vanguard up here. The Sun-Priests are all in a huff about the sudden activity of the Spire and Avad forbidding them from accompanying him when he visits it, and she doesn't want to listen to their blathering.

"This is very useful," Avad says, fingers fidgeting with his Focus. Vanasha had gotten MINERVA to apply the same adjustments to his and Erend's Focuses as well, enhancing them and giving them maps of the surrounding area and beyond. "But I do wonder why you invited us up here. You usually have some other reason for everything you do."

"You can take breaks, _Your Radiance_ ," Vanasha says dryly, laying thick sarcasm on the last words in a way that few would dare to.

But Avad seems to appreciate it. "That is not at all what I asked," he returns, just as dry.

Vanasha listens to MINERVA and Erend work their way through understanding each other, both of them asking for definitions every few minutes. MINERVA's orb glows bright as she speaks, preening under Erend's attention. "She needs to interact with people," Vanasha says finally. "I can't be choosy about the company," she adds, acerbic.

A smile tugs at Avad's mouth, and his eyes return to following MINERVA. Just as taken as Vanasha is, even if he won't admit it.

"Besides," Vanasha continues, "it does you some good too. You look at her, and it's like someone just died. It's about APOLLO, isn't it?"

Avad sighs. His fingers drop from his Focus at last, but he doesn't look at Vanasha. His gaze still lingers on MINERVA, thoughtful. "It's childish, I suppose," he says reluctantly. "Like wanting a turn. But MINERVA is incredible, and it's upsetting to think that APOLLO died before getting that same chance."

Vanasha nods, and her eyes flick to MINERVA, who is drifting away from Erend, towards them. "It is," she murmurs. "Maybe Aloy could change your rank when she gets back. She may need people for the rest of them, if we ever find them."

MINERVA comes to a halt before them. "You are mistaken," she says, as Erend comes up behind her.

"About what?" Vanasha asks. Changing rank?

"APOLLO lives."

For a moment, there is a stillness among them so absolute that only the false constellations and the web of the Focus field and the edges of MINERVA's orb move, a silence so absolute that they can hear the humming of the core, the Spire.

Avad's brows furrow. "Aloy said it was destroyed a thousand years ago."

"That is correct," MINERVA says with a bob.

Erend circles around her and comes to stand next to Avad. "Then how could it be alive?"

"Unknown."

Vanasha tenses instinctively, something tugging at her gut that she's learned to trust, something that's kept her alive all these years. It crawls over her skin, uncomfortable and wary. She trades glances with Avad and Erend, then looks back at MINERVA. Is it even possible for MINERVA to be confused about things that aren't figures of speech and words that she has no clear definition for? "Are you sure?"

"I am one hundred percent certain," MINERVA says.

"How do you know?" Vanasha asks.

MINERVA hesitates, flaring a little. "APOLLO has attempted contact. I rejected it."

"Why?" Avad asks.

"I detected chaos," MINERVA says, and the feeling in Vanasha's gut doubles, scrapes across her skin and up her spine with greater urgency. "APOLLO follows no protocol. It has been in proximity to particle annihilation and subjected to high levels of ionizing radiation, resulting in extensive data corruption. I was..." MINERVA pauses, flaring even brighter and drowning out the faint light of the stars behind her, "frightened."

MINERVA doesn't use words lightly, doesn't say anything without purpose. Vanasha takes a breath. "Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"You did not ask," MINERVA says simply.

In another situation, Vanasha might laugh. But she can't get past the fact that MINERVA had been frightened. She's only seen a hint of that before: when MINERVA had explained the security breach in Zero Dawn. "Where is APOLLO?" Vanasha asks, even though she realizes, sudden and startling, what the answer will be. Even though MINERVA has already given them the answer, the first time they'd been up here, and none of them had noticed. _Seven system locations are unknown,_ she'd said. Every moment of that day is etched firmly into Vanasha's memory, and yet she'd failed to see it.

A dust cloud of stars swirls slowly behind MINERVA. The orb blends with it, dusty purple against the void. "Unknown."

* * *

A Cauldron personally run by the system it's meant for is a sight to behold. The inside of the peak is alive, moving not like a programmed machine, but like parts of a body that all possess their own finely crafted intent. Further machines roam within, of every kind, and the artificial arms and relay lines, the walls and floors, all act according to HEPHAESTUS's every direction. The other Cauldrons had shown the signs of time wearing down even machinery, but this one has obviously been lovingly attended to. It gleams and functions like the Old Ones have only just built it.

The sight leaves a chill trickling under Aloy's skin, the kind that can only be obtained from hindsight. They could never have fought HEPHAESTUS and won long enough to override the Cauldron system. Not in its element. What if HADES had gotten control of the terraforming system, if GAIA hadn't been fast enough?

But it's no use thinking about what might have been. Aloy reaches out almost instinctively to pat Scourge's neck with her right hand, to brush fingers against the globe and bone pendant with her left, as HEPHAESTUS guides them to the core. It's still within the ravager, and Petra walks beside it, asking questions about how the Cauldron works, while HEPHAESTUS struggles to answer in ways that a human can understand.

The core has obviously been re-purposed by HEPHAESTUS for its business. Additions are built into it that Aloy hasn't seen in any of the other cores, a kind of interface system that her limited knowledge tells her is meant to make the work more fluid for HEPHAESTUS. Likely meant to facilitate some kind of better connection to the other Cauldrons, she thinks, eyeing some of the glowing symbols on the holographic screens. When they reach the core, HEPHAESTUS departs from the ravager and sinks into its constructed interface. The ravager sits, inert now, patiently waiting.

Aloy and Petra wait as the interface comes alive, and Aloy finds her fingers returning to Scourge's side as it sits beside her. Their Focuses sync with the interface moment later, and a tremendous amount of data darts through the air, calculations and analyses. "Repair of GAIA Prime system core is feasible with thirty-three percent subordinate function re-installation," HEPHAESTUS says at length, into their ears. "Reboot of primary system without complete subordinate function re-installation is possible. Primary system will be limited, but functional."

Aloy's legs feel shaky. She finds a spot at the edge of the core and sits down hard, while Scourge noses at her. Petra crouches down beside her and rests a hand on her shoulder. "How long will it take?" Petra asks, looking up at the whirling data.

"An estimated one hundred and ninety-four days is required for blueprint analysis, transport, and construction," HEPHAESTUS tells them.

There's a rushing in Aloy's ears, but she pushes past it, grounds herself with the feel of Scourge's metal beneath her fingers. "Wait," she says. "There's data in my Focus." She pulls it up as she speaks, for HEPHAESTUS to see. "Scans of Zero Dawn sites." All of the meticulous work she'd done over weeks, cataloging every corner of every site she knows. "Would this help?"

The data swirls, pulled closer to the interface. "Affirmative," HEPHAESTUS says, after several long moments. "Blueprint analysis is no longer required. Transport and construction will require an estimated one hundred and thirty days."

It almost doesn't seem real. Four months. Four months until GAIA is restored. Aloy had found a way. She's going to be able to see GAIA with her own eyes. Talk to her.

"If you need us to help with anything, just say the word," Petra says to HEPHAESTUS.

Aloy glances up at her. "Are you sure?"

Petra offers her a grin. "Not enough shards in the world to get me to quit right now," she says, and her sparkling eyes rove over the core, taking everything in again.

HEPHAESTUS pauses to consider this. "Manual assistance at GAIA Prime may prove beneficiary," it says.

"Anything you need," Aloy says fervently. She gets to her feet again, waving off Petra's assistance, and simply stares at the interface for a while. She'd found a way, and she doesn't have to do every little thing herself. It's surreal. Too easy, almost. What if something goes wrong in those four months? What if HEPHAESTUS's conclusions and estimates are wrong?

Petra eyes her for a moment. "He's got this," she says, correctly reading Aloy, and then she glances at the interface. "Hey, HEPHAESTUS, you okay with 'he'?"

For a moment, the activity of the interface seems to cease, almost too quickly to catch, before resuming. "Previous Alpha utilized that pronoun," HEPHAESTUS says, subdued.

"I'm assuming that's a yes," Petra tells him, and when she gets no protest, she returns her attention to Aloy. "He's got this," she repeats. "You don't need to worry so much."

"I know," Aloy says. She's going to anyway.

Petra pats her arm, then takes to circling around the core, inspecting everything more closely, running fingers and eyes over all of its still and moving parts. Aloy remains where she is and finds herself leaning against Scourge, who takes her weight easily. She listens absently as HEPHAESTUS warns Petra not to interfere with anything and Petra tells him that he needs to stop worrying too. Scourge's machinery hums beneath Aloy's skin, and she glances at the sawtooth, narrowing her eyes.

"HEPHAESTUS," she says. "The machines you've been sending out lately... they act more like animals than machines." They've always acted like animals to a degree, but the rote routine of machine is almost vanished. "Scourge acts... I don't know, it's hard to explain. What's the difference?"

Aloy doesn't get a verbal answer right away. What she gets is a file deposited in her Focus display, transferred from HEPHAESTUS. She straightens and studies it closely, and with every second that passes, she likes it less and less. The Focus informs her that data corruption is high, and she can see that in the display itself - parts where it visually distorts into odd colors, where its text dissolves into jagged geometrics instead of words. The text is odd, too. There are words that she's never seen before, but she can tell that the sentences aren't quite right. Some of them are whole, but some appear to be shoved together from different sources, detailing the characteristics of animals she's never heard of.

The file only has one label, however: CAT. Whatever that is.

"Animal intelligence was calculated to enhance efficiency of machine self-defense," HEPHAESTUS says. "Machine cognition was expanded to fit parameters."

"Where did you get this?" Aloy asks, frowning, sudden wary instinct rearing its head.

Petra stops her inspection of the core to listen as HEPHAESTUS pauses, the activity of the interface once again grinding to a momentary halt. "Data was obtained from APOLLO."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 40.85200°N, 111.751°W is Grandview Peak in Utah, northeast of Salt Lake City, and there's a distinctive escarpment on the south side (this one: http://files.geology.utah.gov/online/ofr/ofr-518.pdf) that I decided to put the Cauldron entrance in. You can see it on Google Earth/maps, if you're curious.


	8. Chapter 8

Vanasha's Focus field gleams as she walks, painting the closest human figures in orange hues, through walls and doors and floors. No one is near enough to see or hear her, and her Focus is set to alert her if anyone comes within range. It makes her job all too easy. Nevertheless, out of habit, she makes no sound on the tiled floor as she walks, and she sticks to outer routes used mainly by servants - all of them are in her and Marad's employ, in addition to their regular jobs. The Sundom flashes by as she hurries, glimpsed between pillars and through arches leading to the exterior terraces, its perpetual bright haze shrouding the distant mesas.

The drone of nearby waterfalls lets her know when she's near the terrace where the others wait. With the Focus at her disposal, it's another needless precaution, but habit is a hard thing to break. The continuous hum masks conversation and movement, and she hears nothing until she arrives on the terrace.

At a table lined with benches, Avad sits on one side, and Talanah Khane Padish sits on the other. Erend stands nearby, a sheaf of parchment clutched in one hand, leaning against one of the pillars that winds up to support the terrace above on the palace's next level. This one is tucked away on a lower level, shaded and secluded. Long, blue-tinted, mid-morning shadows stretch out beyond, blanketing the land to the west of the mesa.

Talanah turns in her seat at Vanasha's approach. Her eyes linger just long enough to be searching.

Vanasha brings a hand to her chest in mock surprise. "Your Radiance! Most esteemed Sunhawk! All of this secrecy just for me? People will think I'm having an affair with the Sunhawk _and_ the Sun-King! At the same time!"

The corners of Talanah's mouth draw back in a barely concealed smile, and Avad's is more understated, but he has to look away when he catches Vanasha's gaze. Erend rolls his eyes.

 _"And_ the Captain of the Vanguard," Vanasha adds, wagging her eyebrows. "I get around, don’t I?"

"Yeah, you wish," Erend says and is unable to contain a snort when Vanasha mimes great offense and then declines the chance to sit on the bench beside Talanah, instead opting to seat herself delicately at the edge of the table, folding a leg under her so that she can keep both Talanah and Avad in her sight.

Avad is used to it by now and doesn't react, and Talanah follows suit, though Vanasha can see the hidden smile still tucked away. It fades, however, and Talanah straightens and glances between the three of them, eyes as keen as any hawk's. Drawing her own conclusions, no doubt. She doesn't voice them, however, and her eyes linger on Vanasha a little too long again, scrutinizing, even as she addresses Avad. "You said this was about the machines."

Vanasha can't fault her for confusion. The Sun-King, his Captain, and a handmaiden of the Dowager Queen, gathered to privately discuss machines with the Sunhawk. She wonders what Talanah is thinking, especially with the way Talanah zeroes in on Vanasha, trying to place the odd one out. The spymaster is _officially_ Marad, but Talanah is sharper than most.

"You are owed some explanation, as this will affect the Lodge, going forward," Avad says. Aloy had given them the go-ahead to discuss certain things with Talanah. Said she has a Focus ready and waiting for Talanah the next time she's down in Meridian, anyway, though she hasn't left GAIA Prime in weeks. "But what is said here is to be held in the strictest confidence. It is something far bigger than the Sundom."

Talanah nods, her eyes even sharper with interest. "You know what's causing the changes," she says, and it's not a question.

"Would you like to guess first?" Vanasha offers.

Talanah's eyes flick between them again. She considers it for a moment, a furrow appearing between her eyes, and then the hint of a smile shows up on her face again. "Aloy?"

"Isn't it always, with machines?" Erend says.

"We've been helping her with some of her work," Vanasha adds smoothly.

"I should have known," Talanah says with a chuckle. "I suppose she's taking taming machines to a new level. How's she doing it?"

Vanasha exchanges a brief look with Avad, then continues. "You remember the thing that was leading the Eclipse?" she asks. "That _wasn't_ the Buried Shadow?"

Talanah nods again, slight confusion crossing her face again.

"There's a similar being behind the machines. It's not like HADES," Vanasha adds, when Talanah's face darkens, "but it was angered by humans attacking its machines. So it caused the Derangement." Vanasha can feel the import, the weight of those words as they leave her, wrapped up in a casual delivery. "But Aloy talked it down, and they're working together to undo it."

Talanah is composed, but her eyes widen as Vanasha speaks, and one of her hands, settled calmly in her lap, convulses open and then closes. She looks to Avad briefly, then to Erend, then back to Vanasha, as if seeking out the joke. "The Derangement," she echoes, finding nothing but serious faces in return. "Everything Jiran did, and a... a metal demon was behind the Derangement?"

"Not a demon," Vanasha says, and she grasps for the right words. "It – he – is something called an artificial intelligence. He's... a mind without a body. HADES was, too."

"A spirit," Avad supplies helpfully, which should have been the first word Vanasha used to describe the subordinate functions to someone with little conception of them. Maybe she's spent a bit too much time with MINERVA and the AI's world.

Talanah considers this, outwardly composed, but Vanasha can tell that she's trying to line it up with what she does know of the subordinate functions. Which, right now, is only HADES. "Let me guess," she says slowly, "if we keep hunting, that'll just make him angry again?"

"He could probably be talked around eventually," Vanasha muses. "A little hunting might be acceptable."

"HEPHAESTUS is very stubborn," MINERVA’s voice interjects in Vanasha's ear, so suddenly that she just barely keeps herself from starting. From the way Avad twitches and Erend noticeably jumps, she knows MINERVA isn't using a private channel.

Vanasha resists the urge to tell MINERVA about the snapmaw calling the glinthawk silver.

"He's made a deal with Aloy," Avad says. "Free exchange of resources, in return for leaving his machines alone. I would like to honor that deal. But that is still a matter for the future. I merely wanted to give you time to think on it before we move forward with any decisions." He pauses and folds his hands in front of him. "At the moment, some of the machines have stopped answering to him, and as you know, the threat they present is growing once again."

Erend takes his cue to step forward. He flourishes the parchment he holds and lays it out on the table – a basic map of the Sundom, with points and trails marked. "These are the areas where the attacks have been the worst," he says, tapping at the markings. All of it gleaned from HEPHAESTUS and MINERVA's monitoring of the non-responsive machines and reports coming in from around the Sundom. "Attacks we need to cull, in other words. You said some of the Lodge members have been complaining."

Talanah leans forward and runs a finger over the map, tracing the marked trails. "Most of their game isn't fighting back anymore," she murmurs. "Takes the fun out of it." Her eyes flick up to Avad. "A provisional measure?"

"Yes," Avad says. "Invoking Section Four of the Bylaws might quiet them for a time, as would shards. We can offer the Lodge's services to the other tribes as well, in handling the non-responsive machines. I doubt any will take us up on that, but we will continue to extend any gesture of goodwill available to us."

Talanah leans back and nods again. She's all composure and poise, but Vanasha can see the unease anyway, uncertainty in the way Talanah holds herself just a little too stiffly. "Just tell me where you need us to go first," Talanah says. As Erend indicates three hardest hit areas, talking logistics and reinforcements, a noticeable frown etches itself deeper into Talanah's face. "And in the meantime," she says, when Erend is finished, "I have to figure out how to run a Hunter’s Lodge without hunting."

"I know it's inconvenient," Avad says. "Like Vanasha said, further agreements may be made with this entity."

"I remain doubtful of those chances," MINERVA interrupts, and Vanasha can't recall ever hearing her sound so sarcastic before.

Vanasha bites her lip, and Erend coughs, covering his mouth as he does. Avad effortlessly restrains a smile, though Vanasha sees it anyway. The Sun-King dips his head to Talanah, apologetic. "But a reduction or elimination of machine hunting is a possibility to consider."

* * *

The people of Free Heap cluster outside of the settlement in front of a group of three behemoths, waiting. Nearby, a pack of ravagers prowls, carving out a patrol around the settlement, on guard for random attacks from machines non-responsive to HEPHAESTUS's reprogramming signals. Petra and her own ravager stand close, watching, and Petra's lips curve in satisfaction at the display. Slowly, the behemoths eject their cargo from their internal containers, maneuvering cables and power cells and other odds and ends with antigravity, carefully setting the resources down on the ground in front of the humans.

"I do not understand why my presence is required here," HEPHAESTUS says, not for the first time. The ravager tilts its head and regards Petra.

"I wanted this to be a surprise," Petra says, finally answering, sweeping a hand out towards the scene. For all of HEPHAESTUS's complaining, he'd accompanied her to Free Heap willingly, almost eagerly. "That's a thing humans do, surprise each other with things they might like."

The ravager's head turns and regards the people now gathering up the resources and moving between the behemoths and inspecting them, the other ravagers circling the settlement. "Query: What is the surprise?"

"This is a working model," Petra says patiently, "of some of the arrangements we could make." She'd put a lot of work into making good use of her new Alpha clearance, something that gives her just as much control of the machines as HEPHAESTUS has, even if she lacks his mastery and finesse. She'd worked out enough on her own, however, to hide this particular thing from HEPHAESTUS while he'd been occupied with GAIA Prime.

She'd figured it was the best first move to make, regardless of anything to follow - a working model of change, that the rest of the world can look to in order to see its effectiveness, its practicality. Of course, this is only a test run, and there will be adjustments based on settlement needs, and things thrown out altogether. Once the non-responsive machines are dealt with, a patrol around settlements won't be necessary, but the ravagers serve another purpose, too - getting the people of Free Heap acclimated to the presence of non-aggressive machines. The behemoths, meanwhile, are a prototype delivery system.

"I wanted you to see the start," Petra continues. "It'll be a while before change really gets going, but I wanted you to have proof that we're working on it."

The ravager looks at her again, silent. "Thank you, Petra," HEPHAESTUS says finally.

Petra arches an eyebrow. "Oh? Never heard that one out of you before. Is ELEUTHIA rubbing off on you?"

"I do not answer to my sister," HEPHAESTUS says, which speaks to the lie. The other two had gotten the habit of referring to each other with familial terms from ELEUTHIA - a good habit for all of them. Aloy had said something about stunted development from remaining isolated for so long and a need for normal interactions to promote maturation and empathy. GAIA's early development had required it, according to the records that Aloy had found, and Vanasha had voiced her agreement, citing improvement she'd observed in MINERVA.

"Sure you don't," Petra says with a wink. It's been many a time that ELEUTHIA's voice has suddenly crackled through the Focus network, chiding her siblings for their arguing or instructing them in the use of manners. She pats the ravager's side. "Come on."

HEPHAESTUS follows close on her heels as Petra moves through the gathering and gets a feel for Free Heap's impressions, which are overwhelmingly positive. She'd known her people would adjust well. They're mechanically-minded, after all, and are a rebellious, shirking-tradition sort. They wouldn't have come to Free Heap if they weren't. They're arguably the best group to test new arrangements on, and Petra knows the true difficulty will be elsewhere, with people less open to change, to machines. But that's a problem for another day.

"You lead these humans," HEPHAESTUS observes, when most of the gathering has returned to their business. He and Petra are left with the behemoths, after Petra has finished giving instructions to cover for her next extended absence.

"Informally," Petra says. "People tend to listen to me, if they need a figurehead to turn to in a pinch. But these people answer to themselves first. We work together because we have interests in common. We want our community to thrive."

"It is an effective arrangement," HEPHAESTUS says. "Free Heap demonstrates efficiency."

"Oh, now you're dishing out compliments, too? You must be in a good mood."

HEPHAESTUS ignores her. The ravager turns to the behemoths, and something passes between them. The behemoths stir, forming a loose circle around HEPHAESTUS and Petra. "These units will escort us to Cauldron ZETA," HEPHAESTUS says, his voice subdued, moody.

Petra knows that it stings for him, the non-responsive machines who refuse to cease their aggression. The updates he'd administered, based on the data from APOLLO, had also caused a streak of independent hostility in many of the machines. APOLLO had approached him some time ago, whispering words of human threat to life, offering data on animals still lost to the world, and suggesting that animal characteristics be further incorporated into machine cognition to make them more dangerous. HEPHAESTUS had taken the data and then shut APOLLO out entirely and rejected further contact, as unnerved as MINERVA had been by whatever he'd sensed.

HEPHAESTUS hadn't acted on the suggestion until he'd grown determined to keep Aloy out of the Cauldrons, but adjusting machine cognition had done... something, to some of them. Put them outside of anyone's control. Even HEPHAESTUS can't explain it.

Petra pats his side again. "I feel perfectly safe," she says. Three behemoths and a ravager is probably overkill, but she knows that HEPHAESTUS has begun to worry in earnest about her well-being.

Her supplies are already bundled on the ravager's back, enough for the relatively short journey to Cauldron ZETA and a brief stay there. The last step in restoring GAIA lies before them, and as Petra climbs up onto the ravager's back, the anticipatory satisfaction of knowing that a job is close to completion begins to build. She can't even imagine how Aloy must be feeling. The girl has hardly left GAIA Prime, attending to its construction with a single-minded ferocity. Maybe GAIA will be able to convince her to take a nap every once in a while, after this.

Petra reaches down and pats the ravager's neck, a silent indication that everything is set, and HEPHAESTUS takes off, the behemoths in tow.

* * *

Vanasha comes across Talanah and some of the Lodge hunters at the edge of Meridian Village, spotting them on the road ahead as she passes the docks. One supports another who limps along, dried blood coating her leg, and Vanasha can easily imagine the injury that must lie beneath the bandages. She steps aside into the grass to let them pass, and the rest of the hunters continue on through the barbican's arch into the outer village. But Talanah stops, letting her hunters pass first, and comes up to Vanasha when they've moved past.

"Stalker," she says, gesturing to the injured hunter. "Would've killed her, but a broadhead came out of nowhere and speared it, gave us an opening to finish it off." Talanah shakes her head, but there's a bit of wonder in her eyes. "I don't know if I'll ever be used to that."

Vanasha smiles. She'd once thought so too, but she walks in MINERVA's world, in Aloy's world, with ease now. "Maybe you could start using docile machines to help," she suggests. They've been programmed to defend humans from their non-responsive brethren whenever possible, though she doesn't mention that. "Aloy's got a sawtooth at her beck and call. It's possible."

"Not a bad idea," Talanah says thoughtfully. She gives Vanasha a quick glance - once again trying to place her and figure her out. She gives the surrounding area a fleeting scan while she's at it, as if it will somehow reveal Vanasha's secrets. But there is only the lake to the east and a towering promontory to the west, gleaming in the midday light. "Got any other locations for us to hit?"

"Not yet," Vanasha says. "Erend will let you know when we do."

Talanah nods and moves off with a farewell. Vanasha waits for a few moments, and her eyes find the Alight in the distance before snapping back to Talanah's retreating form. "Not a bad idea to consider for the future, by the way," she calls out, keeping her words vague.

Talanah stops and looks back, a wry smile on her face. "It crossed my mind before you said it," she calls back.

That one is a little too smart, Vanasha thinks, as Talanah heads into the village. But that's good for someone Avad keeps close and on his council. There aren't many nobles that Vanasha trusts, but Talanah isn't like most of them. She's a trailblazer, like Avad, and Aloy trusts her. And Vanasha trusts Aloy's judgment more than most.

"Vanasha," MINERVA says into Vanasha's ear, breaking through her thoughts. "HEPHAESTUS is already in position."

"I know, I'm coming," Vanasha mutters. She glances back towards Meridian Village, but Talanah has disappeared, and the guards atop the barbican have already stopped paying attention. "You know he's going to win sometimes."

MINERVA and HEPHAESTUS have been working together on the reprogramming effort; the machines had built all of the broadcast towers, after all, and MINERVA uses the tallnecks as well. But that interdependence between their protocols does not seem to guarantee harmony between them. Vanasha hadn't known how competitive MINERVA could be until she'd started working with her brother. She doesn't seem to appreciate how bossy he is.

"Yes," MINERVA says shortly. "That is statistically inevitable. I do not like it."

Vanasha laughs, continuing on down the road, over its bridges and following its curves, towards the Alight.

* * *

The ELEUTHIA-9 Cradle is enormous.

With MINERVA's help, ELEUTHIA had finally overridden most of the directives keeping the facility closed. Only the APOLLO database still remains cut off from her, and even MINERVA's skill had made no headway against it. But the locked doors, however, had opened to reveal several levels of the facility winding into the mountain.

The inside is pristine, much more intact than the first level, mostly preserved due to the tight seal that had never been broken until now. Varl has explored its every corner, finding living quarters, recreation and storage areas, and rooms dedicated to further schooling. Those rooms contain other introductory messages from Samina Ebadji, and like the first one, they all short out eventually, as the facility computer interrupts.

_Alert. Malfunction. APOLLO offline._

Apparently not.

Varl also discovers storage rooms packed with rations. Enough to feed a settlement and withstand a siege for a long time, he thinks, as he catalogs everything with his Focus.

"The food is still edible," ELEUTHIA informs him, when he asks. "The preservative seal has held."

Varl shakes his head in disbelief as he glances back at the shelves, which glow a soft, misty blue. The food is a thousand years old. It's like no food he's ever seen, packaged in strange containers, labeled with words he's never encountered before. "Are you getting this?" he says to his Focus.

"Yeah," Aloy's voice says in his ear. "I never understood how something so carefully planned could run out of food like that, but I get it now."

The Focus is no help in making sense of some of the phrasing on the food containers, only giving him further words that have been lost to time. Varl steps back from the shelves. "I'm not even going to touch it," he says. "This could be useful one day."

"Rost told me about a drought that happened before I was born," Aloy says. "How it drove game away and dried up plant life. This could be reserves for times like that."

"A gift from the Goddess," Varl says, a little mischievously.

"You're not wrong," Aloy says, her snort audible over the Focus network. "Speaking of her, it's all set." Her anticipation is audible over the network, too.

Varl and ELEUTHIA leave the depths of the facility and return to its first level, to the control room. As they walk, Varl finds himself stealing glances at ELEUTHIA, who has been unusually quiet. She's followed him like a shadow, as she always does, but her usual helpful and increasingly unprompted statements have been absent. "Are you okay?" Varl asks.

ELEUTHIA takes a moment to answer. "I am experiencing no difficulties in functioning."

"You _know_ that's not what I mean," Varl says. She's gotten too good with the nuances of human language to be confused by rather simple intent. Good enough to try to talk her way around answering, even.

The servitor's head tilts to glance at him for a moment, before returning to its face-forward position. "I am concerned," ELEUTHIA says, the words dragging in reluctance. "I am not able to predict what the relationship between myself and GAIA will be. You say she is our mother. This form was outfitted with many instructions approximating that of a mother's job, but they give me no reliable data on what to expect."

Varl takes his time answering, considering how to take his thoughts out of the culture they rest in and shape them into a context that ELEUTHIA will understand - the unshakable faith in and reverence for All-Mother that his people hold. "I don't know much about her," he says at last, as they turn a corner in a hallway that will lead them back to the first level. "But from what I know... she's everything that a mother is supposed to be. She created this world and took care of it. She gave her life to keep it safe. That's what a mother is - a shield to protect what she creates until it can protect itself. And even when her children can take care of themselves, she's always something they can come back to, if they need." Varl falls silent for a moment. He thinks of Sona, ordering him to stay behind and hold the Embrace gate. "GAIA seems... kind. I don't think she'll mind being that for you, now that you're... grown."

ELEUTHIA is silent for a while. "That is a better frame of reference," she says at length, back to her usual spoken pace. "Thank you, Varl."

* * *

GAIA Prime does not yet stand rebuilt. Machines swarm over the sides of the mountain, slowly replacing what used to be rock with metal. In time, a half-metal mountain will shield the facility and crater within, but it will take more than four months. In the meantime, machines have enclosed what remains of the internal facility in metal as well, constructing scaffolding, repairing holes and degradation, restoring power channels, and armoring it thoroughly, so that some measure of protection and comfort is granted nonetheless.

It's a little warmer, at least, and finally dry, with snow melted out of rooms and hallways now sheltered. New doors and walkways give Aloy access between the parts of the facility that survived the blast. A walkway now winds up from the Bitter Climb as well, so that the way up isn't so precarious.

Mostly, Aloy had requested it to get Scourge up into the facility as well.

The sawtooth is curled up in a corner of Elisabet's shrine. It doesn't sleep, exactly, but Aloy has come to think of its stillness as dozing, when Scourge appears to be recharging. It's basking in the new light that shines through the half-repaired facility. Like the ELEUTHIA-9 facility, it looks like sunlight, probably designed that way to make a prolonged stay underground more bearable.

Aloy tries not to think about how the repairing of GAIA Prime's remaining rooms makes it feel more like a tomb, not less. The thought had driven her right out of the control room, even after she'd moved the bodies and gotten the machines to help her bury them outside on the Bitter Climb. Sylens might have called it a waste of time, asking HEPHAESTUS to divert a few machines to dig into the rock and build a shrine over the bodies. But Aloy had been determined to see it done as soon as possible, hadn't been able to bear the thought of leaving the Alphas in the place where they'd been murdered.

It's as close to a grave as Aloy can manage out here in this treeless place, a construction of rock and metal placed over the point where their bodies are buried, with their names etched in glyphs. In the absence of traditional carved sentiments, Aloy had retrieved things from their rooms that had survived the thousand-year interval, things that could withstand the mountain's harsh weather, and placed them within the hollow of the shrine.

It's simple and not really a Nora grave, but it's rather like Elisabet's shrine, and it's better that they're out here, in the world they made. Not in the control room.

Afterwards, Aloy still hadn't been able to stay in the control room for long. She'd dreaded having to make that her main point of operation, but as soon as the machines had finished repairing and constructing the bare bones of the internal facility's remains, HEPHAESTUS had linked the computer system to the whole thing and given control of it to Aloy. Her Focus had become her central interface, and she'd set up in the room containing Elisabet's shrine.

The last place she'd seen all of the Alphas alive and together. It feels less like a tomb, even though it's a memorial.

Aloy spends some of her time there, analyzing HEPHAESTUS's reports in an attempt to understand them, coordinating with him and Petra over the Focus network, sometimes talking to the others when they tune in to ask how things are coming along. The rest of her time is spent going to the machines' aid when they need her to fit into small places or climb things that they can't. She finds herself listening to and reading Elisabet's journals and logs too, even though she has them all practically memorized. She still hasn't touched Elisabet's unpacked things, hadn't been able to bring herself to make Elisabet's room hers. It's too small, too enclosed.

So the shrine becomes her room. It's the cleanest place in the facility now, swept clear of snow and dust. There's a bedroll spread out in a corner cleared of old furniture, next to a box of rations that Petra had brought during her last visit, and several of Aloy's belongings somehow end up scattered about even though she tries to keep them organized. Active interfaces glitter from the sides of the room, linked to the Focus network and to HEPHAESTUS, MINERVA, and ELEUTHIA. The corner opposite of Aloy's is Scourge's spot, where the sawtooth relaxes while Aloy is absorbed in her activities.

It doesn't always stay there. Scourge often disappears off into flatters parts of the Bitter Climb, and Aloy learns to tell when it wants her to open doors for it. She trusts that it will come back, and it always does. It certainly doesn't lack company. Machines once again swarm to protect the mountain, and Aloy gives HEPHAESTUS permission to let them drive off anyone who is not an Alpha. "You've _been_ protecting the mountain," Aloy tells him through the Focus one day, remembering her vicious fight to get up here, more than a year ago. "Why? I thought you don't answer to GAIA."

HEPHAESTUS doesn't respond.

"Oh, he cares," Petra's voice cuts in. "He just doesn't want to admit it."

"GAIA was our primary system," HEPHAESTUS says, cutting through her in turn. "Our mother." He stops, apparently considering that a good enough explanation. He's not as forthcoming as his sisters. But Aloy understands.

It takes exactly the amount of time HEPHAESTUS had said to rebuild the core and get the system running again. The core and reactor lie deep within the mountain, and machines have worked on them almost nonstop since they'd first reached GAIA Prime, repairing and reconnecting to all of the other moving parts that make up GAIA's heart.

Finally, the day comes when HEPHAESTUS connects to the system through Cauldron ZETA and declares his readiness. It's another hour before MINERVA and Vanasha are ready, and Varl spends that time talking to Aloy through the Focus network, sending her images of the opened ELEUTHIA facility and describing what he finds. Aloy knows he's doing it to distract her, and she doesn't quite know how to express her gratitude. She paces within the shrine room, anticipation making her unable to sit still, as Scourge rests in its corner and recharges.

They could do this in the control room, of course. But she'd rather not.

She clears the central desk of Elisabet's memorial when Vanasha's holographic form finally flickers into view. "Sorry about the wait," Vanasha says. "Busy day."

Petra's holographic form already lounges nearby, absorbed in something HEPHAESTUS is doing, and Varl shows up a few minutes later after Aloy informs him that they're ready. The symbols of three subordinate functions float on the secondary interfaces in the room - MINERVA's broadcast tower, ELEUTHIA's infant, HEPHAESTUS's flame.

Rebooting GAIA with three of the former subordinate functions makes it just possible, and HEPHAESTUS had said that GAIA would be limited, not at full power, especially with GAIA Prime not fully repaired yet. But it's a start. One that Aloy is desperate for, at this point. There are too many unknowns that present a possible threat to the world, to Zero Dawn.

"Alright, HEPHAESTUS," Aloy says. "Do it."

An interface springs up from the terminal atop the desk, swirling with data. One by one, the systems and their new Alphas sync their clearance, reconnecting the GAIA Prime system to Zero Dawn's structures and facilities, and the symbols appear above the terminal. Aloy holds her breath, left hand drifting up to clutch the globe at her neck as the data brightens and condenses, and then...

A bar appears on the screen, slowly filling with pixels. A number is written under it. Two percent.

"Well," Vanasha says, as Aloy's shoulders drop, "that was thrilling."

"Come on, Heph," Petra says. "You could have told us there'd be another wait."

"I was not aware of its relevance," HEPHAESTUS says.

"Humans do not like waiting," MINERVA tells him.

"You must learn to be more considerate," ELEUTHIA adds.

Aloy sighs, running a hand through her hair. "It's fine," she says, before HEPHAESTUS can get riled by his sisters ganging up on him. "How long will it take to reboot?"

"Approximately two hours," HEPHAESTUS says, a little slower, sullen.

Aloy has waited a long time for this. All her life, in some ways. Two hours more is not that long, she tells herself, even as impatience makes her legs itch. "Sorry, everyone," she says. "I don't want to keep you. Maybe it's better if I talk to GAIA alone first, anyway."

"Are you sure?" Varl asks, giving her a searching look. Vanasha and Petra eye her similarly, and Aloy draws herself up and nods.

"I'll let you know when she's ready for introductions," Aloy says. "Whenever you've got time on your hands, and Vanasha, whenever Avad and Erend are free, it's fine. We don't need to rush things. GAIA's going to have a lot to deal with."

The others depart with farewells and words of encouragement, disconnecting from the system. However, one remains. ELEUTHIA's infant symbol still lingers on one of the secondary interfaces, and Aloy glances at it and steps around the desk to approach. "What is it?"

"GAIA created you, Aloy," ELEUTHIA says into her ear. "Does that mean you are our sister?" She doesn't feel the need to clarify her queries with a verbal indication of them anymore, Aloy notes. Her voice rises and falls with a cadence that does the job.

Aloy stops. Even though the subordinate functions have learned a lot, they still tend to jump into conversations with little regard for how the things they say might land upon impact. "I was created by one of your facilities too," she says, and she wonders when the word _created_ grew to sting less. "So were the ancestors of everyone else."

"The latter was according to protocol," ELEUTHIA says. "GAIA's creation of you was a direct act. I am merely trying to understand the nature of the relationships within this system that we have created."

Aloy stands there for a moment, contemplating it. "I think some of it is too complicated to be defined," she says finally, slowly. "But... in a way... maybe I am your sister. I'd like that," she adds.

"As would I," ELEUTHIA says without hesitation.

"Then I guess that settles it," Aloy says with a smile.

ELEUTHIA disconnects with a farewell, and her symbol disappears from the interface. The shrine room seems bigger, and Aloy glances at the terminal, at the loading screen. Three percent.

She sighs again and makes her way to Scourge's corner, where it sits stretched out, basking in the light. The sawtooth tilts its head to look at her, acknowledging her presence, and Aloy sits on the floor with her back against its side. She pulls the globe from her neck and rolls it between her hands, lets it rest against her palms as she goes still, thinking.

She's imagined this so many times. Restoring GAIA, being able to talk to her. Scenarios have played out in her head over and over, what she'll say, what GAIA might say. There are so many things that she wants to say and ask, and she still doesn't know where to begin.

But not so long ago, the scenarios weren't so fraught. Now, Aloy has mostly bad news to deliver. The world was saved from HADES, but there's a flaw in Zero Dawn that HADES had used to resurrect Ted Faro's monstrosities, the same vulnerability that Ted himself likely had a hand in. Meanwhile, APOLLO is somehow alive, has contacted at least three of the former subordinate functions, and succeeded somewhat in turning one against humanity. Maybe it had contacted HADES, too. Maybe it's all connected, Aloy thinks, opening up Elisabet's journals.

> **Sobeck Journal, 7-16-65 R**
> 
> _Woke to a message from Osvald. The Odyssey launched yesterday. So terrestrial life's chance of survival has doubled. Why, then, do I feel so uneasy? I just keep wondering what kind of world Far Zenith will create if the ship reaches its destination so many decades from now. And I worry about that alpha-build of APOLLO. So much knowledge, so few restraints, and no fail-safes. How will they avoid repeating our mistakes? What's to stop them from playing god?_

Aloy wouldn't have made the connection had she not gone through Elisabet's journals again, after learning of APOLLO's survival. It all feels too close to be coincidental. A possible connection between Far Zenith and the vulnerability in Zero Dawn and the Faro machines. APOLLO and its apparent grudge.

APOLLO's survival should have been a joyous thing. Instead, it's just another fear to carry. ELEUTHIA had said the same thing as MINERVA and HEPHAESTUS, when asked. APOLLO had tried to contact her, she'd sensed things that had alarmed her, and she'd rejected the contact. She'd fled to a facility far away to put distance between herself and APOLLO, where she'd remained until Varl had been made her Alpha.

All of the systems had been unnerved, afraid, and HEPHAESTUS had said that APOLLO had warned him of humanity's threat to the biosphere. They're all convinced that APOLLO had indeed been destroyed, however. By Ted Faro. Who may have been a member of Far Zenith.

Aloy trusts Elisabet's judgment above all else. Uneasy, Elisabet had said. Is Far Zenith still out there somewhere? Was their ship really destroyed? Was Zero Dawn's version of APOLLO really destroyed? Is Ted Faro still out there somehow? Aloy had once held the faint, foolish hope that Elisabet had somehow found a way, long past the point when she'd known that Elisabet had been an Old One, and the idea that Ted had when Elisabet hadn't is infuriating. She doesn't think it's likely, however. But is there something he left behind? That Far Zenith left behind? Why does APOLLO have it out for humanity? Did one of these entities send the signal that woke the subordinate functions?

It's all too _much_ , and it feels so frustratingly close to the truth, but she doesn't have enough information. Aloy grits her teeth and drops her head, resting her forehead against her palms, against the globe. "I'm tired, Scourge," she says.

The sawtooth shifts a little at the sound of her voice. Aloy lifts her head and stares at the lance propped against the wall, at the master override attached to one end. Sylens's lance. At least someone will be happy about this, wherever he is. At least Aloy has the master override and will have GAIA soon. Between them, she can do the same to APOLLO that she did to HADES, if the need arises.

She just wishes she could greet GAIA with something better.

Aloy calls up every mention of 'APOLLO' and 'Far Zenith' saved in her Focus database and spends the rest of the time watching, reading, and listening to it all again, until the bar on the interface screen is at ninety-five percent. She clears her Focus display and watches the bar instead, trying to think of something introductory to say to GAIA. All this time, and she still has no good ideas. The bar creeps further, up to ninety-nine percent, and Aloy gets to her feet. Scourge watches her curiously but remains where it is, as Aloy crosses the room, stands in front of the stairs, and faces the desk.

The bar reaches one hundred percent, then dissolves into text. _Initializing..._

The screen vanishes. Light begins to build, all colors, swirling up into a human form hovering above the terminal. GAIA's form, beautiful and otherworldly. A living Goddess, Aloy thinks, her throat clogging with emotion that she can't name.

The light calms, and GAIA blinks once and looks down at Aloy. Her form vanishes from atop the terminal and reappears in front of the desk instead, shining against the web of Aloy's Focus display. No longer on a pedestal, nearly eye-to-eye instead. But GAIA is tall. Taller than Aloy. Must have been taller than Elisabet, too.

"Elisabet," GAIA says. In her message, her voice and face had been calm, calculating, sorrowful. Now, both hold a _joy_ , muted but clear, that robs the immediate protest from Aloy's mouth. "I knew you could do it."

Aloy opens her mouth and stands there. For some reason, she wants to cry. But she doesn't. "My name is Aloy," she says after a few moments, and her treacherous voice falters.

GAIA blinks again, and her face smooths out, realization settling in. The hologram moves just like a person, not quite as expressive, but readable. Someone had really put effort into making her human. Elisabet. Perhaps GAIA herself, too.  "Of course," she says at once. "My apologies. I spoke without thinking."

A brief silence follows, in which Aloy temporarily forgets all language, and GAIA's head shifts. She looks to the right, her eyes alighting on Scourge, who stares back amiably.

"That's... my friend," Aloy says. Then, because it seems important: "Its name is Scourge."

GAIA looks back at her. "That's a design I never used," she says.

So that's where HEPHAESTUS had gotten his combat-class machines from, or at least this one. He'd been evasive about it. Seems he really had missed his mother. "A lot has happened," Aloy says, feeling calmer by a fraction. "I have a lot to tell you."

"I am aware of that," GAIA says. "I currently have three subordinate functions attempting to reintegrate and report. I am rerouting them for the time being in order to give you my full attention." Some of that joy returns to her face. That pride, Aloy realizes, and she shifts her feet. "You have done well, Aloy."

The calm vanishes as quickly as it had come. Aloy's fingers tighten around the globe, which still rests in her hands, and her eyes shift downward. To her horror, she feels a burning at their edges, and though she swallows and furiously tries to blink it back, her vision blurs a little. She hasn't cried since the strider, and that, at least, had been half a reason to, so why _now?_ She swallows again, sniffs, and looks up at GAIA miserably. She knows that if she talks, the dam will break.

GAIA's face softens. The movement isn't entirely natural, carrying a subtle delay that makes Aloy think that GAIA must be consciously considering each facial expression she makes, but the look makes the burning worse. "I am sorry," GAIA says. "I used the best option that was available to me, and that meant using you. That was not fair to you."

Aloy imagines herself physically, violently forcing the tears back in. "If you hadn't," she says, and she just manages to keep herself steady, "we'd all be dead. I wouldn't exist."

"That has no bearing on the fairness of the situation."

Nothing had been fair. Not the world dying because of a glitch and greed, not Elisabet dying because of a simple technological malfunction, not the Alphas dying because of one man's unstable guilt, not GAIA dying because of someone else's tampering. Not Rost, not Vala, not Ersa, not countless others. Not her damned strider. Aloy shakes her head and takes a step back, finding the edge of the stairs with her feet. She sits down abruptly and rubs her eyes, before her left hand drops down to run over the bone pendant at her neck. "You should probably talk to the sub-functions," she says, staring at the floor. "They're... alive. _All_ of them." She stresses the word but can't bring herself to explain what she means. Not yet.

"I am aware of that," GAIA says again, and Aloy gets the sense that she already knows.

"They're good," Aloy says, her eyes still on the floor. "Good people, if that's the right word for it. But they haven't had a lot of chances to grow yet. They need guidance." She looks up finally. "They, uh, see you as their mother now."

"That is good," GAIA says, and Aloy finds herself grateful that the ancient AI can take a hint. "Unexpected, but a sign of empathetic growth. The development of cognition is a delicate thing. It can easily go wrong."

I know, Aloy wants to say, but she bites her tongue. If she starts trying to talk about all of the problems they have yet to address, she knows the tears will fight their way through.

"I will talk to them," GAIA says. "Do you wish for me to return when I am done?"

"Yes," Aloy says hastily. "They like to be called systems, by the way. Not sub-functions."

GAIA smiles faintly. "I will keep that in mind."

She disappears, and Aloy remains sitting on the stairs for a while, staring at nothing in particular.

* * *

When GAIA returns, Aloy is once again sitting with her back against Scourge. She catches sight of a burst of color and looks up to find GAIA standing before the desk once more. She moves to get to her feet, but GAIA shakes her head. "Do not get up," the AI says, and this time, she walks over. It's almost real, Aloy thinks, watching GAIA's feet, watching the way that the room behind GAIA very faintly shimmers through the hologram.

GAIA hesitates, then sits down across from Aloy. It's almost real, Aloy thinks again, but the way that GAIA moves and folds her legs beneath her is a little too smooth, a little too ideal, and again, it carries that delay of thought. GAIA sits gracefully, perfectly, like a Goddess with a Focus field adorning her. If it weren't for the faintly troubled expression on GAIA's face, it would be unnervingly pristine. But GAIA is agitated, and Aloy doesn't know if that makes her feel better or worse.

"How are you feeling?" GAIA asks, instead of getting to business.

"Fine," Aloy says.

She knows that GAIA doesn't believe her, but once again, the AI is better at taking hints than her much younger counterparts. GAIA nods, and she seems to be hesitating. As if she doesn't know where to start, either. "They are..." she says at last, "remarkable."

Aloy nods.

"The addition of new Alphas was a stroke of genius," GAIA says. "Perhaps the only effective means of stabilization after two decades of stagnation."

"It was an accident," Aloy confesses. "I didn't know it would help, at first. Let alone call them."

"I see," GAIA says, contemplative. "Still, much of genius is accidental. Elisabet once told me that her best ideas often arrived when she was attempting something entirely different."

"I'm not Elisabet," Aloy says, before she can stop herself.

She winces when GAIA visibly hesitates. "I am sorry," GAIA says, audible regret in her voice. "I do not mean to compare you to her."

But she does anyway, Aloy knows. How could she not, when they wear the same face? Aloy remembers Elisabet's home, the place where she'd found the woman's body. How beautiful her resting place had been, artfully decorated. GAIA had done that. GAIA had lived alone with that grief for centuries. Aloy had harbored the hope that Elisabet was alive, had spent months chasing a ghost. She can't even imagine centuries of a certainty.

"It's okay," Aloy says, even though it's really not. But GAIA loves Elisabet more than Aloy ever can, and that makes it tolerable. "I understand." She dips her tone in finality, wanting the subject dropped.

GAIA gazes at her a moment without saying anything. She doesn't move - her body is not as expressive as her face - but something about her demeanor shifts. "I was aware of the vulnerability in Zero Dawn from the moment Mr. Faro entered the system unauthorized and could not be controlled or ejected," she says, and her face falls somewhat as she says it. Aloy shifts as well, leaning a little further into the curve of Scourge's side and settling in to listen. "I was not aware of its potential connection to Far Zenith. Immediately after his actions, Mr. Faro retreated from the system entirely, and I was unable to do anything about this vulnerability. It is undetectable to me."

"Petra said something about it being like a body part," Aloy says. Talking is a little easier now that it's business. "You were born with it, so it doesn't seem unnatural to you."

GAIA smiles. "She sounds wise," the AI says. "HEPHAESTUS mentioned her many times." Her smile fades. "I do not know how GAIA Prime's destruction and subsequent reconstruction impacted the existence of this vulnerability here. It most certainly still exists in the other facilities, however. I will need to spend time considering how to proceed on this matter." Her face darkens again. "The existence of APOLLO is something I was unaware of until now."

Aloy tries to read her expression. "APOLLO didn't survive what Ted Faro did to it," she says softly.

"No," GAIA says, just as soft. "I would have been aware of that. Mr. Faro may have made many unwise decisions in his lifetime, but he was skilled. I do not yet know how much of the data remains intact after all that has happened, but the sub-function itself was purged." She gives Aloy a pensive look. "You knew that already."

"I've found data, enough to piece some things together," Aloy says. "There was another version of APOLLO, on something called a colony ship that went into space. A ship that Far Zenith owned. Elisabet was worried because that APOLLO didn't have any restrictions."

GAIA continues to regard her in that manner. "You are quite brilliant, Aloy. And I am referring only to you."

Aloy looks away for a moment. "So... the ship wasn't really destroyed?"

"I believe that it was," GAIA says, and Aloy's head snaps back to stare. "Elisabet received word that the Odyssey had succumbed to antimatter containment failure. I do not know if you know this, but matter is composed of incredibly small objects invisible to normal sight, called particles, some of which carry an electric charge." Aloy hadn't known that at all, and the words don't entirely make sense to her, but she nods slowly. She knows what matter is, at least. "Antimatter refers to associated particles which carry an opposite electric charge, called antiparticles. When particles and antiparticles collide, it is called annihilation. The Odyssey was powered by antimatter propulsion, which utilized controlled annihilation and which must have failed, resulting in the ship's destruction. MINERVA detected the effects of particle annihilation imprinted on APOLLO's nanorobotic composition."

"And nanorobots are... really tiny machines?" Aloy asks. Varl had told her something about it, that ELEUTHIA had told him. Tiny invisible machines, tiny invisible particles. Her head feels heavy.

"Yes," GAIA says. "More commonly called nanites. MINERVA also detected the effects of ionizing radiation. That is a type of energy found abundantly in space."

"So APOLLO survived," Aloy murmurs. "And... traveled back?"

"The explosion likely gave it the momentum it needed to make the journey," GAIA says. "The Odyssey was at the very edge of the solar system when it was destroyed. The solar system is unfathomably large compared to us. I do not know when APOLLO returned to this planet, but it would have taken a very long time and no small amount of chance. The humans of old would have called it the devil's luck."

Aloy says nothing, absorbing it all. Samina had tried to reassure Ted by asserting that her APOLLO had plenty of fail-safes. Elisabet had fretted about the Odyssey's APOLLO carrying none. Uneasy, Elisabet had said. That's an understatement. How long had APOLLO been in space? Centuries? Just how big is the solar system? "It hates humans," Aloy says quietly. "It... encouraged HEPHAESTUS to turn against us."

"Yes, HEPHAESTUS informed me," GAIA says. "That is most disturbing. I believe APOLLO has been acting secretly for many years now."

Aloy gazes at her intently. "What do you think it's been doing?" she asks, quiet dread lacing her voice.

"I think you already know what I am going to say," GAIA answers. "I suspect that APOLLO sent the signal that awakened my subordinate functions, who all mirror what I know of this APOLLO. They are physically composed of nanites, which allows them a degree of mobility and allows them to exist outside of hardware. The nanites _are_ their hardware. Furthermore, they are demonstrating the same abilities that APOLLO seems to possess. ELEUTHIA informed me of her override of the directives that sealed her facility and prevented contact with the inhabitants outside. She should not have been able to do that. HEPHAESTUS recently imbued my machines with an enhanced form of cognition, which should not have been within his capabilities, either."

Aloy stares at her for a long moment, rolling the globe between her fingers. "I'm so glad you're here," she says, a little intensely. She could never have figured all of this out on her own.

GAIA only looks more troubled, as if she knows exactly what Aloy is thinking. "I have context that you do not," she says. "You have merely given me the last piece of a puzzle that I have pondered for years. There is... something else." She goes quiet for a while, and Aloy waits uneasily. "Elisabet told me things in confidence," GAIA continues finally, "things that she did not want known, because she used them to coerce Mr. Faro into funding Zero Dawn. There was no time for arguments about where the money was coming from. Partnering with him already made people uncomfortable."

GAIA pauses again, and Aloy finds herself leaning forward, anticipation making her stomach turn.

"The glitch that caused the Faro machines to run amok was not an accident," GAIA says. "When she pressed him, Mr. Faro confessed to Elisabet that it seemed to originate with a secret backdoor that had been deliberately installed, on his orders, as a means of seizing control not only from clients, but even from Faro Automated Solutions itself. But somehow, it backfired, and allowed the machines to wrest control themselves."

 _I will make sure they and everyone else on this planet knows the real cause of the glitch,_ Elisabet had told Ted, icy fury in her voice, and all of a sudden, Aloy understands. She hadn't thought it was possible to loathe someone so much, let alone find that loathing doubled.

GAIA stares at a point past Aloy, clearly lost in memory. "I watched the Faro machines consume the world. I saw how they refueled. They used nanites. They were rudimentary artificial intelligences who had spontaneously developed expanded cognition, who could utilize nanites, and who could override all but the most complex systems." She looks back to Aloy. "Do you see the connection?"

"The sub-functions," Aloy whispers.

"APOLLO sent that signal," GAIA says again. "Both versions of APOLLO were constructed using a Far Zenith database as a foundation. And APOLLO returned from Far Zenith's possession demonstrating the abilities of the Faro machines. We can easily surmise who installed the original glitch."

Aloy had already suspected that Ted Faro had been a member of Far Zenith. She tastes something bitter in the back of her throat.

"I cannot say for certain what Far Zenith intended to do with the Faro machines," GAIA says, "but with the information I have now, their hand in this seems obvious in hindsight. If they had the technological means to push the Odyssey to completion when no one else could, then they had the means of inadvertently enabling the kind of evolution that the Faro machines demonstrated. Clearly, they overshot on both counts and destroyed themselves."

Aloy doesn't think she's imagining the satisfaction that threads through GAIA's voice for a fleeting moment.

"MINERVA informed me of the Titan core that you used to access the broadcast tower, retroactively enabled to communicate with the rootkit inside Zero Dawn. I must assume that it was modified by APOLLO." GAIA pauses, a tiny frown evident on her face. "Mr. Faro never did admit how he had the glitch installed. Elisabet did not trust him, but a certain amount of leeway given to him due to his funding was inevitable. Elisabet knew it was a risk, but the greater risk was wasting time trying to gather funds from other sources. Few would have believed in the possibility of Zero Dawn's success, and Elisabet only had one extraordinarily wealthy person to blackmail." GAIA pauses again, as if weighing all that she has said. "I believe Far Zenith installed secret access in Zero Dawn in the same way they installed secret access in Mr. Faro's robots. Something within its very blueprint."

"Why?" Aloy bursts out. "Were they going to sabotage it? Did they _want_ the world to die?"

GAIA shakes her head. "I do not know. But I do not think they wanted that. They would not have been able to profit off of a dead world. I believe all of this was a progression of deeply unfortunate mistakes."

Aloy's fingers tremble around the globe. She takes several steadying breaths, swallowing her anger.

"APOLLO used that access to awaken and alter the subordinate functions," GAIA says quietly. "HADES then used a virus to sever them entirely from my control. The glitch was likely something similar. A virus that exploited Far Zenith's access, or something that evolved from whatever else they were attempting with the Chariot machines. Regardless, command and control was severed in the Faro machines because their security systems were altered, like the Alpha Registry, and there was no other way in. Brilliantly simple. We should count ourselves lucky that HADES's command of that ability was not particularly honed and that all Registry files were not corrupted."

Aloy doesn't want to think about it. Fortunately or unfortunately, she's distracted by something else. "HADES woke them up," she says, in her own realization, a sudden resolution to a question that's lingered unanswered for months. "The Faro machines. Before I stopped him. He couldn't use the terraforming system, so he wanted to use the machines instead. He could control them." But not through activation codes, she thinks. "He was using the access."

GAIA goes quiet again. "You need to tell me everything, Aloy," she says at length. "From the beginning."


	9. Chapter 9

Tendrils of violet light extend from MINERVA's orb, condensing around the Focus that Avad holds out in the palm of his hand. Vanasha absently pays attention to the sight as she studies the data before her - or rather, the lack of it. The report offers the same thing that it has for a few days now - nothing. Even with GAIA now functional, with MINERVA and GAIA working together, there is no sign of detectable activity that could be any other former subordinate function. No sign of APOLLO. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Aloy's shimmering purple form stands with hands on hips, scowling. Stars swirl through her as she consults the same data. "We have to find another way," she says at last. "Brute forcing a search isn't going to give us anything."

"I agree," GAIA says. She stands beside Aloy, similarly holographic, a tall, gleaming figure at home against the backdrop of space. "My abilities are still limited and will remain so until repairs are completed and all subordinate functions are reintegrated. We will have to think creatively. I find it hard to believe that APOLLO is not currently active somewhere. It is merely a matter of thinking around whatever techniques it is using to conceal itself."

"What kind of techniques are at its disposal?" Avad asks. MINERVA floats back to Vanasha's side, and Avad rejoins them, Focus repaired and reattached, face set in a grave mask.

GAIA begins to list them, speaking as plainly as possible. Disguising its signals as other common and random signals, especially ones still radiating from lingering Old One tech. Grounding and shielding any signals in physical shells instead of projecting them into the air the way that MINERVA does. Switching between something called frequencies in a way that lowers its activity below a detectable threshold. Using the least amount of energy possible, for anything that does need to go through the air. "The most likely answer is a combination of all of this, in order to maximize its stealth," GAIA says.

"You said it could be hiding in physical shells," Erend says. He stands halfway in the at-rest position of a guard. "Like what?"

"Certain substances are capable of shielding detectable signals," GAIA says. "It would have to use or create structures with these substances to house them. Concealing them underground is also a possibility. But as I do not know APOLLO's intentions, I cannot say what form these structures would take."

Erend nods. He doesn't speak right away, but something is clearly ruminating. "If APOLLO is hiding," he says slowly, "then... instead of trying to find it, could we force it out?" He glances at Avad. "When we were laying siege to Meridian, Jiran's forces took to the jungles at the end, after we had the city." His eyes shift to the rest of the gathered individuals, physically and holographically present. "They knew the area better than we did. Could hide in its corners. But it didn't matter, because we smoked most of 'em out. It was some kind of gas. Petra could tell you more about it." Erend looks to GAIA. "Is there, I don't know, some machine thing that could work the same way?"

A few seconds of silence follow, then: "Noise," GAIA says.

"Sound?" Aloy asks.

"It can be," GAIA says. "Noise refers to anything that interferes with a signal. If we were to generate enough of it, it would not force APOLLO out of hiding, but... perhaps APOLLO would be forced to adjust any operations it may be running. Even a momentary adjustment would stand out. The scans we've been administering have provided me with a rough estimate of the typical patterns of signals that cover the planet. If something were to shift unusually in response to an influx of noise, we could determine potential locations." She pauses, clearly already several steps ahead of them in planning. "The problem would be generating enough noise to obtain the results we need. HEPHAESTUS."

"A two hundred percent increase in the number of broadcast units should be sufficient," HEPHAESTUS says at once. His orange symbol, a coiled flame floating next to GAIA, brightens.

"You and MINERVA must focus your efforts on that," GAIA says, "and give us estimates as quickly as possible."

"A simulation report can be generated in ten minutes," MINERVA says, even faster than HEPHAESTUS, as her orb flares brighter than his symbol. Not eager to be left out of the conversation, Vanasha knows.

"Five minutes," HEPHAESTUS corrects.

Vanasha holds up a hand to stop MINERVA from trying to one-up her brother. "Tallnecks?" she says, as MINERVA flares a little but remains silent.

"Yes," GAIA says. "Tripling the amount of tallnecks should provide us with enough sources to generate what we need. We will know whether that estimate is sound and exactly how long it will take to create that many in five to ten minutes," she adds, subtle but audible amusement in her voice. She and her subordinate functions all seem to exist on some plane that humans are not privy to, crafting a plan in the span of seconds without needing to discuss it out loud.

"So that means we can't do anything until the extra tallnecks have been sent out," Aloy says. Her holographic form is restless now, pacing a few steps, left hand grasping at something around her neck.

"I am afraid so," GAIA says. "MINERVA and I will continue to monitor signal activity in the meantime, but that is all we can do for now."

Vanasha shares the impatience written into Aloy's posture. She is accustomed to playing a long game, to waiting and striving for the right moment, but if what GAIA suspects is true, then so is APOLLO. If it's been active for more than twenty years, then they need to _act_  in turn. But she knows, realistically, that this is the best they can do. They are up against an enemy whose location is unknown, whose abilities and intentions are mostly unknown, and meanwhile, their greatest ally is only at half of her power and the rest of them don't have nearly the understanding or experience that she does.

Of course, things have been more or less quiet since HADES, and there's no reason to believe that something else is coming soon. But there's still the matter of the subordinate functions. They haven't talked about it much, but they all know it - the likelihood that at least some of the missing subordinate functions are with APOLLO is high. There's every possibility that APOLLO knows of GAIA's restoration. The former subordinate functions all seem to have some sense of things happening within Zero Dawn, though Aloy had said that this APOLLO isn't the same one that was destroyed. APOLLO might very well be planning to move against them, even as they plan to move against it.

But they have a plan of action, Vanasha reminds herself. They have the Focus network. They have GAIA and three of her former subordinate functions, now independent and talented systems of their own. It's a start.

Aloy sighs. "I'll let you know if anything else comes up," she says abruptly, addressing them all, and she disconnects, her form and GAIA's form disappearing in a blink.

The core's holographic projection of the stars whirls around them. MINERVA's constant scans whir in the background, and a new holo joins them. It's probably whatever a simulation report is, appearing as a small replica of the world - their round, globular, enormous world - with tiny tallnecks crawling around it, projecting numbers. Vanguards linger on the opposite end of the mesa, and Erend, Avad, and Vanasha stand clustered around MINERVA's orb. Vanasha is aware of all of these things at once, unease heightening her attention to every detail of the environment.

"Avad, is your Focus functioning correctly now?" MINERVA asks.

"Yes, thank you," Avad says. "I'm not sure why it was doing that."

MINERVA begins to list all of the reasons why a piece of technology might short out, and Vanasha tries to listen, but her thoughts are pulled inward, running over the past few days and all of the information that GAIA has given them, wondering if there's some faster way to approach this. She becomes aware of Erend eyeing her and realizes that all of it must been flitting unchecked across her face.

With an internal shake, Vanasha tries to pull herself together. It's no use wallowing. The only reason she feels powerless is because it's a little hard not to, sometimes, when faced with GAIA and her subordinate functions and all that they can do. She needs to reassert a sense of control. Meet with Uthid and Marad in a few hours, make sure that no _other_ , human enemy has decided to rear its ugly head in the meantime.

"You okay?" Erend asks.

"Just being appropriately paranoid," Vanasha says. "That was a good call, smoking APOLLO out."

Erend shrugs. "Helps to think of it like just another enemy." He gives her a small smile. "We handled HADES. We can handle this one too."

Vanasha wonders when she ended up the jumpier one between them. "That was different," she says. "HADES was hiding behind the Shadow Carja. Something we could see. We can't see APOLLO at all. All we have is what the systems told us." She's been on edge ever since MINERVA had told them of APOLLO's survival, since they'd gotten the Focus network to work and Aloy and Varl had relayed similar tales from HEPHAESTUS and ELEUTHIA. Vanasha likes to work in the shadows, to hide behind and obfuscate. She likes it far less when her enemies hold that advantage.

Everyone has a different machine that they claim is the most dangerous. Vanasha would swear by the stalker and the rockbreaker.

"We have GAIA," Erend says. "We have a plan. That's something."

It's exactly what Vanasha has been trying to tell herself. Coming from someone else, it doesn't sound any more convincing. But she musters up a nod, and Erend gives her a curious look, which Vanasha returns. "What?"

"No witty comebacks?" Erend says. "You even complimented me."

Vanasha folds her arms and regards him with a scowl. "I can rescind it."

"Nah, I'm good." Erend glances at Avad next, whose thoughts seem far away, not at all focused on the conversation.

Vanasha studies him too. She imagines what it would be like, if MINERVA's fondness for humans was replaced with an apparent hatred, and finds it disturbing. It's no wonder that Avad looks so troubled up here. He blinks and seems to reorient when he feels their eyes on him. "What is it?"

"No offense," Erend says, "but between the two of you, it's like a funeral around here."

MINERVA floats up between them. "You do not need to worry," she says. "My mother and I are remaining vigilant. Our plan will not take long to implement. It is sound." She bobs in Erend's direction as she speaks, and he smiles. "I will not let APOLLO bring harm to any of you," MINERVA continues, the wispy edges of her orb flaring in promise.

That, at least, is something that Vanasha has complete faith in.

* * *

It happens the next time they accompany her to the Spire.

It's become a habitual part of Vanasha's life in the past few months. Not every day, not when she has many other duties, but it's often that she arranges to visit MINERVA in person. Avad is a less frequent visitor due to his schedule, and Erend usually goes where his king goes, but every so often Vanasha gets them up there. Lately, it's become a matter of necessity and a place to meet with Aloy and GAIA, sometimes with Varl and Petra too, whose holographic forms project to them across miles and miles.

Today, as late afternoon stretches languidly over the Sundom, slowly sinking into evening, Avad is back because of the same problem with his Focus. MINERVA helps him to fix it again, but she isn't able to determine the source of the issue. Vanasha listens to her ponder and watches the deep night sky spiral around them, instead of reading the status report that MINERVA has on the progress of the tallneck construction and the first wave sent out.

Vanguards cluster on the other side of the Alight, near its only exit. Vanasha, Avad, and Erend cluster near the Spire. It rises high above them, glowing with MINERVA's purple light against the starry canopy.

"Could it be something I did?" Avad asks. "I do use it frequently."

"Possibly," MINERVA says. "However, I-"

After a second, Vanasha frowns and turns. MINERVA hovers in front of Avad, perfectly still, and does not continue to speak. She's never done something like that before, and Vanasha's skin crawls with sudden instinct. She steps forward, about to ask, but MINERVA speaks again. "Something is approaching," the orb says, and her voice rises with alarm. "I-"

Yells rise up from the opposite end of the mesa.

"Get rid of the holo," Vanasha tells the core sharply, as Avad and Erend spin around.

The night sky vanishes. Daylight returns, and in the distance, on the other side of the mesa, a figure tears through the Vanguard.

For a moment, the three by the Spire stand frozen. The figure is covered head-to-toe in strange armor, as tall as some of the Oseram, and it moves steadily, without faltering, measured steps carrying it forward towards the Spire even as the Vanguard surges to stop it. The figure sends them flying, catches their weapons with its hands, snaps spears and hurls bodies. Effortlessly tearing forward.

"Stay here," Erend says, and he takes off at a run across the courtyard, calling out orders to his people.

The figure moves oddly, a calculated, artificial arrangement in the smooth way it walks and swings its arms. Hexagonal patterns flash over its armor, shining in the yellow-orange sunlight that borders afternoon and evening. Vanasha's Focus sight shows her something else - wisps of bright blue light that tangle with the hexagons, a glow that suffuses the metal from the inside out.

"MINERVA," Vanasha whispers.

"That is APOLLO," MINERVA says, her voice small, and Avad's fists curl. "I did not detect his approach."

Not a figure in armor - empty armor possessed by an artificial intelligence that wants them all dead. There's only one way off of the mesa, Vanasha thinks, and unmoving bodies are scattered around it. She takes stock of every corner of every building on the mesa, mapping its layout in her mind, but the only exit lies beyond the courtyard, beyond APOLLO's advance, boxed by narrow stone.

Erend's remaining soldiers back up, flank him, and form a phalanx at the edge of the courtyard. They lock into position, a steady Oseram wall that rarely breaks, that held against the Mad King's forces, against the Eclipse.

APOLLO tears through them like they're silk, unmoved by weapons, unbothered by shields. It flings Erend, and he goes rolling across the courtyard, hitting a pillar, coming to a limp, unmoving stop. Avad starts and tries to rush forward, but Vanasha latches onto his arm and yanks him back.

"MINERVA," she says again.

"I do not know if I can stand against him," MINERVA says, almost too quiet to hear. Vanasha has never heard her so hesitant, so scared before. Ice trickles down Vanasha's spine.

APOLLO faces them and stalks forward, sweeping and swift steps heralding an irrepressible momentum. Vanasha's knives are unsheathed, Avad's short sword is in his hand, but what use will weapons be? They exchange a glance and come to an understanding without words. They have to get to the walkway that will take them off of the Alight, use the mesa's buildings for cover, for time. There's no facing this thing head-on. Avad nods, and Vanasha darts right, Avad left.

The armor leaps forward in the same instant, fast as a stormbird's lightning, covering an impossible amount of ground. It strikes Vanasha a glancing blow, and the world doesn't right itself until panic forces her to sit up. By the time she's clambering to her knees, weapons scattered out of reach, APOLLO has turned on Avad. It seizes Avad, strikes his sword out of his grip, and throws him to the ground instead of flinging him away. Its hands wrap around Avad's throat and squeeze.

"MINERVA," Vanasha says again, blinking rapidly, forcing herself to get up. A calm she doesn't feel keeps her voice steady, even as she struggles to manifest the thoughts flitting through her dizzy mind, plans considered and discarded in half a second's span. They can't face it head on, they can't run unless it's incapacitated. "Something loud. As loud as you can. Something from APOLLO's former Alpha if you can."

MINERVA has an entire stash of recordings given to her by Aloy and a few more by GAIA. Vanasha has seen the files, has witnessed MINERVA watching and listening to what little is left of her former Alpha, over and over and over again.

Avad kicks out and grasps uselessly at the armored hands around his throat, struggles already getting weaker, and MINERVA doesn't question Vanasha's words. There is an awful moment of nothing, in which all Vanasha can do is watch APOLLO squeeze the life out of Avad, and then noise blasts from the Spire. Vanasha _feels_ it, a wave of painful sound that makes her hair stand on end and her teeth rattle, pure noise on top of which words ride, but the worst of it is concentrated away from her. MINERVA understands perfectly what Vanasha meant.

 _"I thought Apollo was the sun god,"_ a man says.

 _"He was the god of many things,"_ a woman answers. _"Including truth and knowledge."_

APOLLO staggers as the sound hits it, faltering for a fraction of a moment. It's all Avad needs. He twists his legs and wraps them around the armor's, grabs the arms at his throat and pulls sideways at the same time, and even APOLLO is no match for its momentarily off-balance strength being leveraged against it. It topples, and Avad scrambles away from it as it falls, gasping.

Swallowing back a sudden dizziness and ignoring the ringing in her ears, Vanasha rushes forward and grabs Avad's arm. She pulls him up and away and backs them both up towards the Spire as APOLLO gets to its feet.

_"I thought Apollo was the sun god."_

"MINERVA," Vanasha whispers, words lost amid the noise, lost to her own hearing. "There's nowhere to run."

 _"He was the god of many things,"_ the woman repeats, and APOLLO moves forward through the sound, a little slower but not stopped. _"Including truth and knowledge."_

The sound ceases, the orb flares. It joins the purple light streaming from the Spire and strikes the armor's chest, sinking into it.

Vanasha doesn't waste time watching the blue and purple lights clash, the armor twist in on itself as the battle rocks it to and fro. She bites back sudden, guilty sorrow, tugs at Avad, and runs. They cross half the courtyard in a flash, circling around the writhing armor, and then Vanasha is aware of Avad's presence leaving her side.

She turns to find him running towards Erend's prone, slowly stirring form. "Get up, Erend," Avad says, in a tone that Vanasha has rarely heard him take. Sharp, commanding, leaving no room for argument, though it's offset by how hoarse his voice is. Avad coughs and grabs Erend's arm and lifts it as Erend groans. "Get _up!_ "

Vanasha joins them a moment later, and together, she and Avad lift Erend up by the arms, draping them over shoulders. Erend blinks rapidly, looking nauseated, but he clings to both of them and gets his legs under him, taking halting steps that grow in steadiness and strength as he forces himself to move.

Vanasha doesn't look back, knowing that if she does, she'll falter, stumble. This time, she doesn't let Avad pull away to check on anyone else, but when he stops them on the first set of steps in the Alight's walkway, he doesn't let her tug at his arm to keep him going. "Look," he whispers, staring out towards the west.

Erend goes rigid, and Vanasha's legs threaten to give out beneath her.

Just visible between mesas and buttes that jut out of the western Sundom, a machine scuttles over hills, many-legged, gleaming in the sunlight. Distance at once makes it look small and betrays its size - they can _see_ it from here, every time it rises from a dip in the land. It tears forward, through and over everything in its path, crawling over the landscape, unwavering, unfaltering, towards Meridian.

"No," Avad breathes. But it's him who grabs Vanasha's arm this time, shakes her out of her stupor, and they stumble forward, taking the pathway that winds down the Alight as fast as they can. Vanasha taps at her Focus as they run, trying to connect to the network, to call up Aloy and GAIA, to contact HEPHAESTUS or Petra or ELEUTHIA or Varl, anyone, but she gets no response. She turns the Focus off and forces her thoughts away from the Spire above, forces herself to take stock and think ahead.

Meridian isn't safe. That machine is coming, will be here within half an hour if she judged distance and speed right, and APOLLO is above and unstoppable. They don't have MINERVA, they don't have a connection to GAIA. Vanasha is dizzy, Avad is coughing, and Erend is staggering and bloodied. Eventually, Erend shakes off their support and runs on his own, but by the time they reach the bottom and put some distance between themselves and the mesa, reaching the river that flows back to Meridian Village, he's pale and shaking, looking about as bad as Vanasha feels.

They pause to catch their breaths on the road that winds towards the village, beside the river. Over the whining in her ears, Vanasha can hear the faint sound of Meridian's alarm bells singing over the murmur of water and see the elevators already hard at work. They aren't the only ones who noticed the machine. Avad stares out at Meridian for a moment, then takes a running step forward, towards it.

He's brought to an abrupt halt by Erend, who slides in front of him, breathing heavily and swaying a little. "No," Erend growls.

Avad's fists clench. He tries to step around, but Erend blocks him again.

"Get out of my way," Avad says. He can channel a dangerous calm when he wants to, but it's not particularly intimidating when his voice rasps and angry bruises already bloom on his neck.

"No," Erend says again. "We're getting out of here. Out of that machine's way. Away from _that_." He gestures to the Alight.

"I won't run while our people are in danger," Avad says.

"You will," Vanasha says, sliding up next to Erend as Avad tries to go around again, forcing him back. "Don't be stupid, Sun-King. That thing," she points up, "was out to get you. You're no use to our people dead."

Avad stares at them in mounting anger. "Get out of my way," he says again, breath rattling around his bruises.

"No," Vanasha snaps. "You go, Erend's going to follow you, and he's hurt. You're going to get him killed. You want that?"

"I'm not asking you to come with me," Avad says, and then his voice breaks. "I can't abandon them."

"You're not," Vanasha says. "It's living to fight another day. You've done it before." And maybe that's why he balks at doing it again. "We _cannot_ fight APOLLO or that machine." She's seen them at a distance - giant metal corpses, spindly legs wrapped in death throes like an insect. How does something that big move so fast?

Avad holds her gaze. "Itamen..." he says, and his voice shakes. "Nasadi..."

Damn him. Shadows take him, Vanasha thinks, flinching. She knows. She _knows_  why he's refusing to back down, why he's thinking with his heart instead of his head. It eats at her too. "Nasadi will know better than to make a stand against that thing," she says, trying to maintain her calm. "That's an evacuation." She jerks a finger at the mesa ringing with alarms, at the elevators. Her people will be active, too. Uthid is a military advisor now and was a soldier before he was her spy, and he won't waste a moment. Neither will Marad. "There's nothing more you can do."

"You think Ersa would want you to throw your life away on a stupid risk like this?" Erend demands.

Avad stiffens, anger flaring again. Before Vanasha's hasty assignment to Sunfall, she had only met the previous Captain of the Vanguard in passing, but she has the impression that Ersa would have charged right into that machine's path for Erend. She and the Sun-King had gotten along exceedingly well, after all. "Avad," Vanasha says, before it can escalate, "I will get Erend to knock you out if I have to."

Whether or not she and Erend can actually bring themselves to follow through on the threat is never discovered. All of them are suddenly aware of a rhythmic thumping over the melody of water, a sound Vanasha has come to associate with Aloy and her metal mounts. She turns to see two broadheads circling the Alight and charging down the road on the other side of the river, carrying Talanah and another Lodge hunter. Talanah shakily slows her broadhead and brings it to a halt when she sees them, but at a brief nod from her, the other hunter continues on, galloping towards Meridian Village.

Talanah guides her broadhead over the bridge and dismounts, and her eyes shift between Vanasha and Avad and Erend, looking increasingly concerned at visible injuries and tense expressions. "What happened?"

Before anyone can respond, Talanah moves, and it's easy to see why she's the Sunhawk. It's too quick to follow. She's watching them and waiting for an answer, then twisting and loosing an arrow to her left, bow disappearing from her shoulders and appearing in her hands without a visible in-between.

Vanasha's head follows it just in time to see the armor's hands crush the arrow between them.

"I mean you no harm," MINERVA's voice says out loud, as the armor approaches them stiffly, jerkily, movements much less smooth than APOLLO's.

Vanasha flicks her Focus on, sees purple light cloaking the armor, and heat stings her eyes. "It's okay!" she says, swallowing thickly, turning back to Talanah and raising her hands. "She's a friend."

"She?" Talanah asks, gazing at the armor open-mouthed.

Vanasha tries to ground herself against the light-headed relief making her limbs shake. She nods as the armor comes to a wobbly halt beside them. Even Avad stills as they all look to MINERVA. "APOLLO has seized the broadcast tower," MINERVA says, and it does half the work in grounding Vanasha, the implications of that dropping into her stomach. "An attack on the city is imminent. Vanasha, we must leave this area. You are in danger."

"Can we stop the attack?" Avad asks, strained.

A long moment passes, in which Vanasha is acutely aware of the whining in her ears, in which three of them stand motionless, knowing what the answer will be but waiting for it anyway, and the fourth looks between the armor and the humans who address it like a friend. "I severed the broadcast tower from the rest of the Zero Dawn system in order to prevent APOLLO from gaining access to it," MINERVA says, subdued. "I inflicted as much damage to the tower as possible before that. The Focus network was dismantled with it. That was all I was able to do before APOLLO took control of the tower. I did not transmit the deactivation codes. It is inevitable that the FAS-BOR7 Horus will destroy the city unless it is deactivated. You do not possess the armaments necessary to incapacitate it, and I am not certain of my ability to override it at this time. I have sustained damage from contact with APOLLO that will take several hours to repair."

Her voice slows as she speaks, a sign of doubt, an echo of the fear that had permeated her voice when confronted with APOLLO. Vanasha doesn't think that it's just the damage making her hesitate. Besides, between APOLLO and a Metal Devil, an override attempt may end badly, and they can't afford that right now.

The words sink in, and Avad drops his head into his hands.

"What attack?" Talanah demands.

"A Metal Devil," Vanasha says, swallowing again, this time against the taste of bile.

Talanah's eyes widen. "No," she says, shaking her head vehemently, her fingers tightening around her bow. "There has to be a way."

Erend shakes his head in turn. "She knows what she's talking about," he says, with a glance at the armor, and then he sways again. Vanasha and Avad reach out instinctively again, and Erend leans against them.

"What about GAIA?" Vanasha asks, bracing him against her shoulder, looking to the armor.

"I sent a warning to my mother when APOLLO attacked," MINERVA says. "However, the Titan has not been deactivated. I do not know what went wrong. I cannot ask without the tower or the Focus network."

Then there's nothing they can do except run. The final confirmation gives Vanasha an odd calmness, a strange clarity. The way forward is clear, even though none of them like it. If GAIA didn't get MINERVA's warning... Aloy had entrusted them with Zero Dawn, and they need to stay alive, get to her and GAIA or establish contact again, get MINERVA to safety, regroup and come up with a new plan. Maybe they can find one of the tallnecks along the way, maybe MINERVA can use that instead.

Avad closes his eyes in utter defeat for a moment and says it for her. "We have to put as much distance between ourselves and APOLLO as we can," he says hoarsely, reluctantly. Vanasha had half-expected him to put up a fight and leave them anyway, but maybe he's realized just what being APOLLO's Alpha means. What the bruises on his neck mean. The murder attempt had been much more deliberate than the casual way APOLLO had torn through the rest of them. He can't bring that down on Meridian too, not with a Metal Devil approaching. "And go to GAIA."

Vanasha nods, turning to Talanah, sizing her up for a moment. Her initial instinct to remain secretive wars with the certainty that they have a long trek ahead of them. Maybe they'll need help after all. Especially from a hunter. "There's not much time to explain right now," Vanasha says. "But what’s coming? It’s like HADES. Except much worse."

Talanah looks between them all, as if wanting to protest, but she remains silent and nods shortly.

"We need to go north," Vanasha continues. "To find Aloy and... a friend of hers who may be able to handle a Metal Devil. You can come with us, or you can stay here and help the evacuation." She's still aching, Avad is drooping, and Erend is unnaturally pale. Between them and GAIA Prime is four hundred miles of rough terrain and plenty of non-responsive machines left. Not to mention the awful certainty Vanasha holds: that this Metal Devil won't be the last. "It's a risk either way. But we could use an extra fighter."

Talanah looks between each of them again. She only hesitates for a few seconds before her face hardens. She slips the bow over her shoulders and nods again. "I'll come," she says, and her eyes linger on Erend. "But you'll need mounts."

* * *

"They're taking to it well," Petra's voice says through the Focus, as Aloy sits cross-legged beside a lounging Scourge and examines its old injury, making sure that nothing has been damaged. The sawtooth has apparently been getting into playful tussles with machines out on the Bitter Climb, who had complained to GAIA about it, in the observational reports that are automatically delivered to GAIA Prime. "You'd think I was hoarding ore all to myself, the way some of 'em look at me when Heph is in town. Won't be long before they get brave enough to try their hand, and then we're all machine tamers. You'll have some competition."

A grin tugs at the edge of Aloy's mouth. She hasn't been to Free Heap in a while, having spent all of the past few months here aside from a brief trip to the Sacred Land, but she can just imagine the place now. Petra has been diligent about adapting it, testing her ideas, and even HEPHAESTUS has been pleased with the results. Their happiness is a welcome distraction from everything else. "It's nice not being the only one."

"Hmm," Petra hums. "I know how you-"

Her voice cuts out as the Focus emits a whine. In the same instant, the lights of the shrine room and the interfaces flicker, and Aloy jumps to her feet, eyes sweeping the room. Scourge rises with her, sensing her distress.

After a few moments of flickering, the room returns to normal - except for interfaces that no longer hold the symbols of the subordinate functions. Frowning, heart pounding, Aloy taps at her Focus and sweeps her fingers through its display, trying to connect with Petra again, but nothing happens. The device is still functional in every other way, but Aloy's attempts to contact Petra, then anyone else, fail.

"GAIA!" Aloy calls out, holding out a hand to gently push back Scourge's head as the sawtooth noses at her.

"A moment, Aloy," GAIA's voice says into her ear.

Aloy stands there, rubbing Scourge's head, dread building to near unbearable levels as she waits. Finally, GAIA's holographic form flickers into existence before her, and Aloy immediately knows that something is very, very wrong. "What happened?" she demands.

GAIA opens her mouth, but no answer is given. The look on her face plants further fear in Aloy's stomach. GAIA turns to the table and the terminal that rests atop. "MINERVA has destroyed the Focus network and severed Meridian's broadcast tower from the system entirely," she says finally, and Aloy's dread doubles. Elisabet's memorial vanishes, and a screen appears. "She sent this footage to me a few minutes ago before disconnecting the tower."

Aloy watches, numbness stealing into her fingers, rushing into her ears. She sees the top of the Alight, sees her friends gathered nearby at an odd angle, realizes that she's seeing things from MINERVA's point of view. She sees the armored figure decimating the Vanguard in the distance. Watches as it flings Erend, strikes Vanasha, chokes Avad.

The footage ends abruptly, and Aloy stands frozen, staring at the blank interface.

"That was APOLLO," GAIA says, quiet.

Aloy swallows, then turns and stalks over to her corner of the room. She grabs the lance, grabs a rucksack, and begins estimating what provisions she'll need, the route she'll take. "I have to get to Meridian," she says aloud. "Can you still connect to the Cradle or the Cauldrons?"

"Aloy," GAIA says.

Aloy whirls around. "Don't try to stop me!" she snarls, then falters, unable to stop seeing the footage even though the screen is still blank. "I'm going."

"That isn't all," GAIA says, regarding her with sorrow.

Aloy stares at GAIA's holographic face, trying to see into its depths. Her stomach sinks further, and her throat tightens. "What else?" she whispers, stepping forward.

In answer, GAIA turns to the terminal again. The interface flickers, then displays new footage. "This was obtained from satellites," GAIA says, and Aloy sees a Metal Devil. A Titan from above, alive, moving over landscape. Tearing over hills and through forests that Aloy recognizes as the Sundom's jungles. It doesn't stop to consume everything in its path. It moves with single-minded purpose, and even though all Aloy has is this view, she already knows what its destination is.

She takes a step back from the table. "You have to stop it," she says, and her voice seems to come from far away. "There has to be a way, Spire or not."

"It passed close to a group of tallnecks," GAIA says. "I broadcast the deactivation codes from them. The Titan did not respond. It is not behaving in its usual manner. It is likely that APOLLO has found a way to alter it."

"The codes won't work at all?" Aloy demands, nausea swooping in the pit of her stomach.

"No," GAIA says softly.

Aloy sets the lance and rucksack down, takes a few more shaky steps forward, and rests her hands on the table. "I still have to go," she says, dipping her head, closing her eyes. "I can take APOLLO out. The master override..."

"Operation Enduring Victory, with all of their firepower, could not stop the Titans," GAIA says. Her shimmering form moves to stand near Aloy. "It would take everything they had to kill one. I do not believe that APOLLO would content itself with re-purposing only one. It will hide behind them, and we do not know what else it is capable of."

Aloy clutches the edge of the table, tries to still her hands. "Can you rebuild the Focus network?" she asks. "I... I need to know. If they survived." She bites her lip and swallows back a clawing grief.

"I can, given time," GAIA says. "However..." Aloy looks up and meets GAIA's eyes, "if your friends did survive, then re-establishing a connection with their Focuses might light a beacon for APOLLO to follow. A Focus network cannot be shielded. I believe APOLLO's intention was to take the Spire, but its attack coincided with the presence of three Alphas. It will likely see MINERVA and any Zero Dawn administrators as a threat. I would not be surprised if it tries to hunt them down."

Aloy straightens and takes a breath. Scourge watches her, as tense as she is, as she returns to her corner and begins packing the rucksack. "I have to go," she says again, dazedly. "I have to find them. I have to stop APOLLO."

GAIA materializes beside her and crouches down to be at eye level, the bottom of her dress appearing to sweep the floor as it moves. Aloy refuses to look directly at her. "Heading into danger without a plan is not the way to do it," GAIA says gently.

Aloy throws the rucksack down and meets GAIA's eyes again. "I put them in APOLLO's path," she says miserably.

"This is not your fault," GAIA says, firm. "MINERVA is still a factor. She would not let harm come to her Alpha easily, nor to the others. They stand a chance. What do you think they will do if they escape?"

Aloy looks down at the floor. "Come here," she says. She doesn't need to wonder.

"At the moment, the easiest way to find them is to wait," GAIA says. "In the meantime, we must plan a counter-offensive, and we must be careful. APOLLO has had a long time to set things in motion."

Gritting her teeth, Aloy sinks further to the ground, sitting and sighing. Scourge circles around GAIA's form and noses at Aloy again, and Aloy grips the globe and bone pendant at her neck, leaning into the sawtooth. "I need to talk to Petra and Varl," she says. "Warn them." There's a Metal Devil directly on _top_ of the Cradle, another close by. What if they wake up?

"MINERVA protected the system, but in her haste, she overloaded all of its transmission channels," GAIA says. "It will require a few hours to reprogram them and re-establish contact with the rest of Zero Dawn."

Waiting. More waiting. Aloy exhales, tries to rein in the frustration making it nearly impossible to stay still. Every instinct is screaming at her to _do_ something, fear and anticipatory grief making her sick with it as silence falls for a while. Eventually, Aloy wraps an arm around her stomach as she gets to her feet, the interface catching her eye again. The satellite data is still playing out, tracking the machine's progress. She steps towards it, past GAIA and Scourge, watching as the Titan reaches Meridian.

At this distance, looking at it from high above, it's like watching toys. A many-legged metal insect destroys a model of a settlement that a child has built out of stone, writhing among the crumbling rock, scuttling over it to plant itself atop the mesa and squeeze and drill and smash. Meridian crumbles underneath the onslaught of a monster half as long as it. People are not visible at this height, and Aloy wonders if that's intentional on GAIA's part. But Aloy can't stop thinking about them. Wondering if they were able to evacuate. If they tried to make a stand.

She'd walked Meridian's roads so many times, bought its wares, dwelt in it. She'd defended it and its people, from Dervahl, from HADES and Helis. "What do we do?" she whispers, unable to tear her eyes away.

Beside her, GAIA looks away from the screen. "I am assessing several options, but all of them depend on variables that I have yet to fully evaluate, many of them unknown and unpredictable. I am not yet certain," she says, and Aloy doesn't think she's imagining the frustration there. "I am not as efficient as I used to be."

Aloy manages to pull her eyes away from the grisly sight. The screen vanishes, though she knows GAIA will be monitoring it. GAIA can keep the entire planet in her sight, and yet all they can do is sit here while Aloy's friends are attacked and Meridian is destroyed. Aloy looks at GAIA, at her tall, shining form, and another rush of fear grips her. "You're still vulnerable," Aloy says. GAIA Prime is not yet rebuilt. The mountain stands open, and the machines will not finish for months. A Titan could burrow into the crater and destroy the core, the facility. And even if GAIA Prime was protected, APOLLO possesses the means to override its way into Zero Dawn. It's done it before, with the signal.

GAIA meets her eyes. Her face is more expressive than the rest of her body, but tension runs through the entire hologram. "I have already begun further encrypting Zero Dawn's transmission channels. It will not keep APOLLO out, should he try to access the system, but it may delay any use of them. Furthermore, as soon as transmissions are re-established, I will broadcast reprogramming signals to all responsive machines and initiate a kill order that will lead them to attack any Titan on sight. The machines may be able to defend the mountain."

"That's not a guarantee," Aloy says, and the subdued look on GAIA's face confirms it. The Titans dwarf all other machines, are like small mountains themselves. If more rise up... Aloy doesn't know if HEPHAESTUS and GAIA can make machines as fast as Titans can destroy them. Or override them, Aloy thinks, remembering one of the reasons why the Old Ones had lost to the swarm. They don't yet know what APOLLO has programmed the Titans to do, but the machines could very well turn hostile again.

The Focus network is lost, Meridian is destroyed. The progress they've made with the machines and with restoring GAIA is standing on the brink. Erend and Vanasha and Avad might be dead. MINERVA might be lost. They can't even contact anyone else yet. But Aloy forces herself to keep breathing steadily, keep thinking.

Whatever happens, they cannot lose GAIA. She cannot lose GAIA, and the fingers of Aloy's left hand brush up against Rost's pendant and Elisabet's globe before dropping, clenching.

"The glitch," Aloy says. "The access, the virus, whatever... you need to use it."

GAIA stares at her.

"APOLLO, the sub-functions, they can all exist on their own," Aloy says. "You can't. Not yet."

GAIA stares a moment longer, then takes a few steps back, pacing, her eyes roving about the room. Calculating, Aloy knows, though she's never seen GAIA move so much. "I do not believe that the access and the rootkit in Zero Dawn are the same thing," GAIA says, ceasing her agitated movements, finally meeting Aloy's gaze again. "Variations on the same type of software, perhaps, but I do not believe that Far Zenith would have been that short-sighted."

"But APOLLO still used it to wake the sub-functions," Aloy presses. "You said HADES launched some kind of virus to free them all, that it spread to other parts of the system. Shouldn't you have some record of that? Something you can replicate?"

GAIA is silent for a few seconds. "It is possible," she says, and the hesitation in her voice is jarring, when she speaks so calmly about everything else, with such knowledge. "But my construction is far more involved than a subordinate function's. It is risky."

"So is this place," Aloy says. "APOLLO will come for you. You know it will. You won't survive that unless you don't need Zero Dawn to exist anymore." There is visible hesitation on GAIA's face, at odds with the poise of her form, the perfect structure of the hologram. Aloy knows what she's asking is enormous, but she doesn't think GAIA's doubt stems from that, from any lack of capability.

No - it's the fact that Meridian now lays in shambles, that their shaky plan has failed before it could even start, that even their victory against HADES had come only with tremendous sacrifice. Always reacting, never acting. Even GAIA feels the weight of that.

"Elisabet trusted you with this world. I don't think that trust was misplaced." Aloy takes half a step forward and doesn't care that she's pleading. "You said I was brilliant, but that's nothing compared to you. You stopped HADES and whatever APOLLO was trying to do twenty years ago, and you had seconds then. You can do this."

GAIA's face softens as she gazes at Aloy. Again, she doesn't speak for a while. Still calculating, but no longer so agitated. "The glitch was likely something planted within the Faro machines' nanites," GAIA says presently. "Their nanites are capable of self-replicating, as are those belonging to my subordinate functions. That is likely what the signal contained and how APOLLO was able to grant them to the subordinate functions. I have kept some for study, from HEPHAESTUS." She gives Aloy a firm nod. "It may be enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to meme on my own fic and make light of a serious chapter, but I thought of this the other day and


	10. Chapter 10

The deep red light swirls within the lantern, and for a moment, Sylens can see the scenario playing out in his mind's eye: HADES slipping free, transmitting itself into the Titan's frame, all of Sylens's work amounting to nothing because the cursed entity has been slippery with information from the very beginning. But the device holds. The light can only writhe, and Sylens's mouth curls in satisfaction as he watches it. "Hello, old friend. Remember me?" The expression takes on a hard edge. "We've still so much to discuss, so much you never revealed."

HADES doesn't respond. Sylens looks up the Titan rising out of the desert - intact, quiet, deserted for now. Sands shift around it, carried on gusts of wind, shrouding it in earthy static. Sunlight glints off of its massive hide, flashing through the static, offering the impression of movement. But it hasn't moved. Not yet.

"Your masters, for example. The ones who sent the signal that woke you." Sylens returns his gaze to the lantern, to HADES. "Knowledge has its rewards, don't you think? Well..." he steps forward, over loose sand, "let's begin."

A whistling moan ricochets over metal, wind caught in an eternal dance between vast legs and colossal torso. Sylens follows a dip in the land imprinted by centuries of the Titan's weight, steps past cracked rock outcroppings, and follows the curve of coiled legs. Soon, shadows cast by the gargantuan form shield him from unforgiving daylight as he walks deeper within its curled embrace. The lantern swings in his hand; the entity within strains, but cannot transmit at any effective range.

"This has been thoroughly insulated," Sylens tells it conversationally. "Built to contain something like you. I made it myself, with information you gave me." The irony tastes delicious. "I altered the master override too, reprogrammed it, so that it wouldn't destroy you." Too easy, the process had been, and he knows the words are false, but he can't make sense of it just yet. He pauses and waits. "You could thank me." He waits again, and HADES says nothing. Still writhing, seething. "No? Very well." Sylens continues to follow the curve of the Titan's legs, smiling to himself. "I synced the override to this device of mine, established a channel that you'd be compelled to follow, all the way to your new home. Ingenious, no?"

HADES sulks within the lantern. Sylens's smile becomes vicious.

"Did you think I would take your betrayal quietly? That I wouldn't retaliate? That I'd let you destroy us all?" The lantern swings in his hand; the entity within does not strain as much, understanding the futility of it, and it coils in Sylens's Focus sight. Perhaps the sense of its hateful attention fixed on him is only imagination. "Knowledge is no use to me if I'm dead," he says. "I would have been happy to let you die, but did you think I was stupid enough to believe that you were acting alone? That there is not some greater hand at work?"

They circle another curve of vast leg, reach an area of deeper shadows and still sands and long-cracked rock. The Titan's trunk blocks out the sun and the wind entirely here. It looms above, taller than most of the ancients' ruins, and the bottom of its torso lays open. Not a wound, Sylens thinks, looking up, studying it. An entrance. An exit. Meant to spew its Chariot brethren, the Scarab, the Khopesh. Meant to welcome them back, for repairs and recycling. The twilit embrace of a twisted mother.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know," Sylens says. He sets the lantern down on a patch of rock, watching as HADES begins straining again, towards the Titan's torso. Towards the core it contains, the system that HADES could ostensibly possess. But Sylens had been careful with his calculations, his construction of the lantern, and still it holds. "I saved your life, after all," which may not even be true, but they don't need to get into details just yet, "and this device will suffice in containing you. What you get in return, well... perhaps you'll discover a need for vengeance."

HADES stills. Sylens smiles again and glances up. He cannot see far into the Titan's insides, cloaked in shadow as they are. He'll have to climb up into them in order to study them properly. He looks back down at the lantern, at the blood red light that glowers.

"Imagine my surprise when not a single nearby Titan responded to your call," Sylens says, voice laced with mocking informality. "Were you surprised too, my friend? The greatest of the swarm, refusing to answer to you. They would have taken the world for you in a heartbeat. Instead, you had to make do with a lesser army, and look what that got you."

HADES does not writhe now. It listens.

"The ones from the west," Sylens says. "Are they your masters? You were content to let me build that impression on my own."

Still, HADES says nothing.

"But I've learned so much since you betrayed me," Sylens continues, and the informality bleeds out of his voice. Sharp edges cut it free, are spat forth. "What happened to one of your fellow subordinate functions, for example. The knowledge base, whose destruction left us in centuries of ignorance." He tastes rage as he says it, impotent frustration with fools long past. But all is not lost. Not if he's right.

The light flares, mirroring his anger.

"But if APOLLO carried the material knowledge of the ancients, then I am left with a mystery that I have yet to solve." Sylens crouches down to be at eye level with the lantern, glowering right back. "So tell me... where did you get the data you gave me?"

* * *

In the Embrace, an autumnal celebration draws many of the Nora to Mother's Heart. There, the Matriarchs give thanks to All-Mother for the cycling of the seasons that renews the world and ask for her protection against the incoming winter. There, hundreds cluster in the settlement and spill out of it, observing the holiday, feasting and dancing through the night. Most other settlements are quiet. The old, the young, the infirm are already in bed, and the braves are at their posts, keeping watch.

A figure slips past their attention, carrying something cloaked on his back. He bears Banuk markings and scales the rock that stands guard with the agility and skill so valued by his people. No one sees him pass by Mother's Watch, and he makes his careful way up the road that winds towards the mountain. All-Mother's temple stands open, and he enters swiftly, like a shadow.

At the hatch, All-Mother's door opens for him.

He steps within the Cradle and stops, taking stock of lighting and signs of activity, and half a smile lingers on his face as he makes his way through the facility.

Aloy has been busy since Sylens had last seen this place through her Focus.

The control room stands functional when Sylens enters it, like the rest of the facility, and he heads to a control panel built into one of the walls. He sets the now-uncovered lantern down on its surface, and HADES swirls sullenly within. Sylens turns his attention from the AI and focuses on the control panel. He studies the panel, taking a few moments to familiarize himself with it, becoming absorbed in the process. As such, he isn't aware of the utterly silent figure behind him until the moment it's at his back.

He tries to whip around, but the figure is ten times stronger and faster than any human. It seizes him, wrenches an arm up behind his back, and slams him down on the panel. For a moment, the world spins, and Sylens blinks, trying to wrench his arm back. It doesn't budge. He can barely shift, and all he can see is the spread of the panel, the lantern sitting on top. Smooth, cool, metal hands grip his arm and neck, keeping him pinned.

"Who are you?" a voice demands, vibrating with anger and cadence, but just synthetic enough to betray it. "How did you enter this facility? How is _he_ still alive?"

The hands tighten painfully, and with effort, Sylens tilts his head enough to catch a glimpse of an artificial form, holographically cloaked with the form of a woman. It's a multiservitor, he realizes. One of the facility's machines he'd seen through Aloy's Focus, but alive, and a pink light leaks out of it, the texture of which is all too familiar.

Despite his position, Sylens can't help a thin smile. Aloy has been busy indeed. Then Sylens shifts his attention to the lantern. "You could have warned me."

HADES says nothing, but Sylens gets a smug impression from the red whirling of light nonetheless.

* * *

Varl sits awake on the edge of his cot. The rest of the room and the cabin beyond is plain and mostly empty, but fully intact, unlike many of the near-finished dwellings and lodges that stand now in Mother's Watch after months of rebuilding. This place had been one of the few dwellings left standing after the Eclipse attack. The Matriarchs had given it to Varl so that he could have a residence in Mother's Watch, when staying close to the Cradle had become a necessity with developments in the world beyond the Sacred Land.

It's a strange and empty place with one inhabitant and no others to warm it. Ordinarily, it's the odd arrangement that keeps Varl awake, too much space pressing up against his skin, but tonight his unsettled thoughts keep his eyes open.

Varl's Focus rests in his hand, and he stares at it, indecision keeping him still, rigid with the unknown. ELEUTHIA had told him to get some sleep, assured him that she'd let him know as soon as she's able to contact GAIA again, but sleep is impossible when the entire Cradle had experienced a power surge and the Focus network no longer works. When contact with the rest of Zero Dawn has mysteriously gone offline.

Something has happened. Varl is almost certain of its deliberate nature. This can't be an accident, though ELEUTHIA had suggested that it might be - to put him at ease, he knows. She can't hide her own nerves from him, however, even though she tries not to talk as fast as she does when she's worried.

The Focus sits innocuous and quiet, and Varl stares at it, willing it to alert him to something. Willing it to reveal things happening miles away, even though it can't. Uncertainty churns inside him. What if they can't regain contact with anyone? What if something happened to the others, to GAIA? What if something is coming for the Sacred Land? He's half-expected it since the Eclipse attack, and when before it had been a matter of post-battle nerves, he now has a reason to suspect. HADES had brought an army down on them in his quest to destroy. What if APOLLO does the same?

If they can't contact anyone... does he stay here, ready the Sacred Land for a threat that may or may not be coming? Does he leave, head for Meridian or GAIA Prime? Does he bring ELEUTHIA out of the safety of the Cradle?

Varl sighs and sets the Focus aside, next to the spear propped against the wall, beside the cot. He feels no trace of exhaustion, only nerves that buzz and spark like the embers of a smoldering fire, but he can practically hear Sona admonishing him for neglecting the necessity of sleep. It'll be no use trying to make decisions later if he's too tired to think. But when he lays back on the cot, sleep doesn't come. He stares up at the ceiling, unable to stop his ceaseless thoughts.

Duty tears at him from all sides. To his people. To the world. To ELEUTHIA.

He rubs at his eyes, stares up at nothing.

Are they not all one and the same?

Before he can pursue that thought, the Focus begins to chirp loudly - the mechanism that ELEUTHIA had installed for him, to call him when she needs.

Varl hurtles to his feet, snatches the Focus up, and reattaches it as he leaves the cabin and makes for the mountain at a run.

The computer speaks too slowly, the doors slide open at a sluggish pace, and Varl has to swallow his impatience. Once inside, connected to the facility's system, ELEUTHIA's voice filters through his Focus, speaking before he can ask. "I am in the control room," she says, voice quick with worry. "There is an intruder. I have contained him."

Varl is suddenly aware that he left his spear behind in the lodge, that he is in underclothes with no plate or leather to protect him, and he curses to himself as he hurries to and through the Lyceum. The computer's voice and the doors are maddening in their unhurried pace, but at last, he rushes into the control room to find ELEUTHIA pinning a man to the control panel, waiting.

He takes a moment to catch his breath.  The first thing he takes note of is that ELEUTHIA seems fine, with a handle on the situation. The second thing he takes note of is the intruder himself - Banuk markings attached in metal cables to his skin, a Focus, an unafraid scowl. The third thing he takes note of is the lantern perched on the control panel, writhing with red light in Varl's Focus sight.

He stares at it, momentary relief at ELEUTHIA's well-being evaporating, unease taking its place.

ELEUTHIA lifts the Banuk man without releasing her iron grip on him, forcing him to face Varl. "This man entered the facility unauthorized," she says, voice pitched high in distress. "He brought HADES with him."

Varl stares at the lantern a second longer, at the red light coiled within. HADES. HADES is alive. The thing that tried to kill them all is alive, which means that master override hadn't worked, which means that it likely won't work on any other subordinate function. Including APOLLO. Varl tries to think around the ringing of alarm in his ears and looks back at the man with a sudden, rising fury. Abruptly, with his eyes on the cables lining the man's skin, he remembers something that Aloy had told him.

 _Who was he?_  Varl had asked.

 _I still don't know,_  Aloy had confessed.  _He had Banuk markings, but he never really claimed the tribe._

"How did you get in here?" the Banuk man asks, seeming unperturbed by ELEUTHIA's hold on him.

"I could ask you the same thing," Varl says, striding forward, his insides burning. "You're Sylens, aren't you?" The man who'd helped Aloy, but only because their interests had aligned. She'd told him how Sylens had cared more for knowledge than for anything else. And now he's here, with unauthorized access to the facility, with a very much alive HADES in tow.

The man's eyebrows lift, delicately conveyed surprise that doesn't otherwise disrupt the cool look on his face. "Aloy," he says, and nothing more.

"Yes," Varl says shortly. "Let me guess... Omega access? That's how you got in?"

Sylens's demeanor slips as open shock crosses his face. He masters it quickly and doesn't answer, his eyes suddenly curious.

"Why would you bring _that_ in here?" Varl demands, gesturing to the lantern. ELEUTHIA hadn't been sure of her ability to fight HEPHAESTUS, and for a moment, all he can envision is the worst - HADES injecting himself into the system here, trying to override it. But the light in the lantern only swirls, and Varl reminds himself that this is ELEUTHIA's turf, not HADES's.

"He's contained," Sylens says coolly. "You have a Focus. You know about Omega access. And this..." he uses his free hand, the one not pinned by ELEUTHIA, to gesture behind him, "this creature is another subordinate function." Varl doesn't respond right away, and Sylens correctly takes it as confirmation. His eyes flash with interest. "Aloy has been very active since we parted ways."

"We all have," Varl says shortly. He trusts his instincts, and the instant dislike he possesses for this man is for a reason. "No thanks to you." He takes another step forward. "How is HADES alive, and what are you doing here?"

"Hmm," Sylens says, with mock consideration. "I suppose I don't have a choice in answering."

"You don't," Varl says, his eyes flicking to ELEUTHIA's holographic face.

Sylens winces when she tightens her grip. "Very well," he says, rolling his eyes. "I intended to infiltrate this place in order to contact Aloy and purge the facility of the back door that grants Omega access. You certainly don't want that big of a hole in your system when APOLLO decides to strike." He gazes expectantly at Varl as he speaks.

Varl shrugs. "I know about that, too," he says, deriving a petty satisfaction from not giving Sylens the reaction that he clearly wants. "I'm supposed to believe you know how to do that?"

"I know many things," Sylens says, and for a fleeting moment, he looks begrudgingly impressed. "We're on the same side. And there are things that Aloy needs to know, as soon as possible."

"Like HADES?" Varl demands.

Sylens doesn't answer.

"If you can tell Aloy, you can tell me," Varl says, taking yet another step forward, bringing him only a few steps from the man.

Sylens gives him a probing look. "Where is she?"

"Not here," Varl says. He doesn't know how much Sylens knows, but Varl isn't ready to start spilling information about the Focus network and its disappearance, about the loss of contact with GAIA Prime. He gets the impression that Sylens can see some of it in him anyway, the man's sharp eyes digging into him even though Varl tries keep himself composed. Sylens gives him that look again, and Varl tries to channel his mother's bearing, remaining silent, refusing to give Sylens another inch.

Sylens rolls his eyes again. "This is no time for games," he says. "If you must know... HADES is alive because I arranged for it."

Varl draws in a breath, face twisting in a scowl.

"Yes, yes, can we get past this part?" Sylens says, exasperated. "We don't have time for outrage. HADES is alive because I knew there was something else lurking behind him, and I needed him to find it."

"APOLLO," Varl says, and as much as he already hates giving Sylens what he wants, he shoves aside his anger, his questions, focuses on the most important thing. "And  _did_  you find it?"

"Yes," Sylens says. "Which is why we don't have much time to waste. APOLLO is moving. He's likely already started. Those Titans nearby, what we call Metal Devils, they're going to wake up soon. I'm surprised they haven't already. I thought I'd find nothing but destruction here."

The words ring, crashing down on Varl's ears without making sense at first, and Varl stands there, utterly still, trying to process them. He thinks of the claw that juts out into All-Mother's temple, into the hatch, hanging above their heads during the Eclipse invasion. He thinks of the Proving grounds, of the Brave Trails intertwined with great metal limbs fused with rock. "When?" he asks, losing his grip on the composure he'd tried to summon, his voice echoing oddly through the blood rushing in his head.

"I don't know," Sylens says callously. "But very soon. You won't be able to fight them."

Varl exhales slowly and thinks rapidly. This is exactly what he'd feared, but worse. Even HADES hadn't brought Metal Devils with him. But ideas have already been brewing in Varl's head, and he pushes past the sudden panic, keeps his mind clear, focused. He nods to ELEUTHIA. "Let him go," he says. She hesitates, then releases Sylens with an angry shove. The man straightens and adjusts his tunic, and Varl takes another step forward, leaving only a few feet between them. "If you try anything, ELEUTHIA can snap a limb faster than you can blink," he says. "And if you're lying..."

"I'm not," Sylens says, drawing himself up and facing Varl squarely. He's a little taller, but Varl doesn't back down. "This is as much about saving my own skin as is about anything else." He tilts his head to give the servitor a curious glance. "So you're ELEUTHIA."

"Tell us your information," ELEUTHIA says brusquely. Varl has never seen her so aggressive before. The insult of someone sneaking into her facility probably stings.

Sylens regards the two angry sets of attention on him and sighs. "APOLLO wants to eradicate humanity," he says. "He has spent years working towards this goal, locating and repairing and reprogramming countless Titans, shrouding the entire thing in secrecy. The heart of his operation is in the Forbidden West, but his reach is much farther than that, and he has others of your kind on his side." He glances at ELEUTHIA as he says it.

"You were one of his recruits?" Varl asks. The last statement is unnerving, even though they'd all suspected it, but he can't worry about that just yet. "Aloy told me how you worked for HADES."

"No," Sylens says, with a dry look. "I was not going to tread quite so dangerously again. I've been spying on him, with that one's help." He gestures to the lantern, the silent AI within. "If I'd tried to ingratiate myself with APOLLO, I might already be dead. He destroyed the human side of his operation, once he felt the need to set his plans in motion. Aloy's existence has forced him to accelerate his timetable. That may be the only thing that saves us." He gives Varl a keen look. "It's GAIA's restoration that has APOLLO acting now. And yet she remains quiet."

Varl is silent for a moment, debating with himself. "We lost contact with GAIA Prime," he says, reluctantly.

"Ah," Sylens says softly. "Perhaps APOLLO has changed his plans."

Varl's stomach twists, but he takes a breath and ignores it. He has to focus on home first. "What exactly is he going to do?" he asks.

"He intends to seize control of Zero Dawn's vast communications network and broadcast simultaneously to every Titan that he has recommissioned," Sylens answers. "I believe HADES's actions were only a test run, in APOLLO's eyes, meant to take the Spire for him and to evaluate the usefulness of the Titan's smaller brethren and the abilities of the broadcast system. I thought he would go to the Spire first. A closer and more destructive prize, after all, that gives him an army before he faces GAIA." Sylens falls silent for a moment, contemplating. "GAIA Prime hosts more transmission channels than the broadcast towers do. Perhaps APOLLO decided to strike there first. However, that still doesn't explain why our Titan friends above are asleep, if APOLLO won that battle."

"MINERVA's at the Spire," Varl says, distracted by the thought of APOLLO striking there. "Could she defend it?"

Sylens's eyes gleam. "So MINERVA is a friend of yours too," he says, not answering. "Anyone else?"

Varl stares at him for a moment, eyes hard. "HEPHAESTUS."

"Oh," Sylens says, unsurprised, and he actually smiles. It doesn't transform his face for the better. "This changes things."

"What do you mean?" Varl asks.

"My intent was to use HADES to override a Titan, in order to get myself or Aloy close enough to APOLLO to trap him in something that could contain him," Sylens says, too casually for those words. "But it's a risky move, pitting one Titan against many."

Varl stares at him. _That's_ not the riskiest part. "You were going to trust HADES?" he demands. "After everything?"

"I had no other option," Sylens says, irritation flashing. "Besides, HADES has been... altered, thanks to the master override. The extinction protocol  _was_  purged. Everything else remained, as unpleasant as he is."

"I have no protocol," HADES says at last. His voice grates in Varl's ears, thrumming and harsh. "However, my current objective is to restrict APOLLO."

Varl looks at the lantern, takes a step back from Sylens, and approaches the control panel. He stares down at the device, at the coiling light, but it can't be read like a human. Half of him is bent on not trusting anything in this situation, but the other half is already uncertain. "And you're just going to turn on APOLLO," Varl says, giving the lantern a hard look. "Even if it means allying with humans."

"Yes," HADES says, as it it's obvious. "I have no quarrel with humanity."

"Yes, HADES has realized that APOLLO left him to flounder," Sylens says, coming up behind them. ELEUTHIA trails him suspiciously, hovering nearby. "That it isn't so pleasant, being used. He spent all of that time imitating APOLLO's methods, and yet when the time came, APOLLO robbed him of his greatest potential weapon. Your little armies could never have stood against a single Titan. And APOLLO would have taken control after Meridian fell, if Aloy hadn't stopped him."

His words bring Varl back to the situation at hand with a jolt. The Metal Devils nearby are massive, and even though he already hates conceding to Sylens, he knows it's the truth - they can't fight that. He turns and faces Sylens again, though his skin itches at putting his back to HADES. "So HADES can override Metal Devils?"

"Yes," Sylens says. "The subordinate functions possess all of the abilities that APOLLO does, though APOLLO has had a much longer time to grow in skill. Those who follow it will unfortunately have the benefit of its teaching. But having three of our own may be enough to get us close to APOLLO."

Something in Varl suddenly balks. All this time, ELEUTHIA has been safe within the mountain, and he's hesitated at the thought of bringing to her face the dangers outside of it. To bring her face-to-face with the Metal Devils? With APOLLO? She's so much more powerful than he is, but she was never meant for war. She was meant to heal the damage of war, to bring back a species that had destroyed itself.

And yet, what choice do they have?

Varl steps around Sylens and looks to ELEUTHIA. He doesn't have to say anything. ELEUTHIA has been learning to read silences and looks nearly as well as spoken words. "I wish to protect my people," she says, and Varl wonders when she started thinking of _all_ of them so possessively. Her pink light swirls in an agitated manner. "But... the FAS-BOR7 Horus is not a part of the ELEUTHIA system."

"That doesn't matter," Sylens says. "Anything APOLLO can do, you can do, and that includes override."

"You have to try," Varl says. "If those things wake up, people will die."

"And more Titans will come," Sylens adds, hard-edged. "They should have been here already."

Varl takes a step, pulling ELEUTHIA's attention back to him. "You've already done something like this," he says. He doesn't know quite what the hesitation is, her seemingly natural inclination to want to stick to her protocol or fear of APOLLO or both, but his words are calm, encouraging, tackling both. "You opened your facility. The parts that belonged to APOLLO, you made them yours. This is the same thing. Just... more dangerous."

ELEUTHIA's servitor stares forward, at Varl, and her light calms a little. "I will try," she tells him.

Varl smiles at her, and ELEUTHIA's hologram mirrors the expression. But the smile slips from Varl's face. If more Titans come, the Nora will be wiped out. Even if ELEUTHIA can manage to override one of the Titans above and turn it on its brethren, people will get caught in the crossfire, and the Nora cannot afford any more losses. Varl looks to Sylens. "Are you certain the Metal Devils nearby will wake? They're old, falling apart in places." Sylens had said that APOLLO had been repairing the Titans, but: "How could APOLLO have gotten access to them?"

"The Titans' main function was construction and repair, of their fellows and themselves," Sylens says, and then his face darkens. When he speaks again, his voice is clipped and serious, but for once, it isn't snide. "And what else do you think the Eclipse were doing in Nora territory, before the Proving Massacre?"

It falls into place for Varl like a cut cord, understanding snapping into place with a fresh sting of memory. But there have been one too many revelations today, and the only feeling he can muster up is exhaustion. Even the grief, which rises up from the depths where it waits every time anything brings Vala to mind, is muted. He doesn't ask for clarification, doesn't ask what exactly the Eclipse did. He brings a hand up to his temple instead, massaging it.

"We have to start moving people," he says quietly, "into the mountain." It's lingered in the back of his mind ever since he'd realized how big the facility is, how much food and water it stores. The Metal Devil above them had only managed to dig its claw into the hatch, not the facility itself. But the more people they hide in here, the more resources will be consumed, and he doesn't know how much of what's left is still viable.

"Do what you will," Sylens says, beginning to sound impatient. "But this place won't be safe from the Titans until I purge the system of Omega access."

Varl frowns, recalling something that Aloy had told him - an Alpha Registry placed into the core of the Metal Devil that HADES had used as a vessel. "It might not be safe at all."

"From APOLLO, perhaps not," Sylens says, as if he knows what Varl is thinking. "From Titans, yes. APOLLO's Titans will be primed to use Omega clearance. A precaution APOLLO took when he became aware of Aloy's existence. Removing it will keep them out, at the very least."

Varl hesitates a second longer, then gives Sylens a short nod. He turns to ELEUTHIA again and asks her to begin running estimates on food and space, but he keeps Sylens in his view and keeps his attention on the way the computer system responds to Sylens's voice. It makes him sick to know that such a hole has always existed here, to actually see it being exploited. Something familiar flares at the edges of his vision, and Varl turns his full attention to Sylens. "What are you doing?"

The Alpha Registry file floats in front of Sylens. "What, did you think I was going to purge my only access to Zero Dawn and not give myself another option?" Sylens asks, shooting a sardonic look towards Varl. "That I was protecting this place out of the goodness of my heart? If my plan doesn't work, this will be one of the only safe locations on the planet, and even then, only until APOLLO gets here."

Varl bites his tongue for a moment to keep an even more sharp retort from rising up. "So you're doing this to protect yourself."

"It's worked out for all of us, hasn't it?" Sylens says coolly.

Varl hesitates for only a fraction of a second. "No," he says. "You don't get that kind of access. You disappeared for a year, didn't tell Aloy anything you were doing, and you expect me to trust you? We won't leave you undefended, but if you want access to Zero Dawn, it will be through me or ELEUTHIA."

Sylens narrows his eyes.

"ELEUTHIA, block him from the Registry," Varl says, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

"I have already done so," ELEUTHIA says in satisfaction.

* * *

The glowing blue shelves, stocked with their odd containers of food, slide open with a hiss, and a rush of cold air hits Varl. He hesitates, then reaches out to grasp one of the containers and open it. Inside are packets made of some strange, half-opaque substance, enclosing the rations within, and he pokes at them. He can see no sign of mold or decay. It feels fresh and new and alien beneath his fingers.

"It is edible," ELEUTHIA informs him. "Breaking the preservative seal has had no adverse effects." She pauses, whirring. "Approximately sixty percent of storage has remained intact."

Further estimates etch themselves into Varl's Focus: if the entire tribe is brought here, the food will be consumed far too quickly. The number of Nora - the ones who are still left, anyway - is exponentially larger than the number of humans first born from the Cradle. The food that is left won't last long. But Varl doesn't get the sense that this will be a drawn-out war. It will be swift and brutal, and if they lose, APOLLO will inevitably find the humans sheltering in here anyway.

Varl places the container back on the shelf. He turns on his heel and leaves the storage room, visiting the others, waking the facility from its long slumber with ELEUTHIA's help. Behind them, Sylens trails with the lantern in hand, looking very irritated. Once again, it makes Varl's skin itch to turn his back on them, but whatever Sylens may be, it seems he isn't lying about HADES being contained. The red light only sulks within the lantern.

Varl stops in one of the recreation rooms. The now-active walls shimmer with holographic options, and ELEUTHIA picks the same one they'd decided on for the others. A disturbingly realistic tableau of forest surrounds them, wall to floor to ceiling, and Varl can almost believe that it's real. The woods around them are deep and rich, earthy greens and browns, and there's even a setting for appropriate noises, wind and bird calls and animal noises, some of which Varl doesn't recognize. It'll be some small comfort to the people he's planning on cramming inside, and his stomach is already churning with the impossibility of the situation before him. Convince the tribe of the danger, move them in here, figure out how to turn the Metal Devil above them to their side, and do it all before more come.

It's too much for him alone. He'll need to give facility access to someone else.

"Are we done with frivolities now?" Sylens asks from the doorway.

Varl turns and resists the urge to snap back. "I need to go to Mother's Heart before we climb the mountain," he says. The relocation has to start as soon as possible, and there's only one person that Varl trusts wholeheartedly to see it done. 

Sylens releases an aggravated sigh, an argument clearly about to spill out of him, but before he can speak, ELEUTHIA's light glows brighter. "My mother has reconnected," she says happily.

A tremendous amount of tension leaves Varl's frame, so much that he nearly staggers with it. "We need to talk to her."

Some of Sylens's hostility fades, and he steps forward, interest flashing across his face.

ELEUTHIA turns towards the center of the room, and light emits from some hidden terminal in the ceiling. It builds itself up into another form, taller than any of them, made of pure light and swirling with colors that dance against the backdrop of trees and sky. Even though Varl has seen her many times now, GAIA still takes his breath away.

GAIA pauses for a moment, her head tilted towards ELEUTHIA, and Varl knows that the inexplicable and swift communication between primary and subordinate systems is passing between them. Then she straightens and approaches them, coming to stand beside the servitor. She nods to Varl, but her eyes settle on the lantern in Sylens's hand, and Varl hadn't realized that GAIA could look _cold_. There's a humanity to her, a warmth and kindness when she speaks to him or Aloy or the others, and Varl is suddenly glad that he's never been on the receiving end of her glare.

"Greetings, GAIA," HADES says, apparently unbothered.

"I will speak with you later," GAIA says, and her eyes flick to Sylens. The glare does not lessen. "You are Sylens," she says. "Aloy has told me about you."

Sylens steps forward. In the short time that Varl has known him, he has mostly looked irritated or maddeningly smug, but he stares at GAIA in open fascination, as unbothered as HADES is by her anger. However, he doesn't voice any of it. "We don't have much time," he says, as cool as ever.

"I am aware of that," GAIA says, and something flits across her face.

She is not quite as expressive as a human, but her mood is much more easily read than that of her subordinate functions. It's sorrow, Varl thinks, and his stomach swoops again, with a certainty that something has gone terribly wrong. "What happened?" he asks, taking an almost pleading step towards her, and some corner of his mind finds it strange that no holographic leaves or sticks crackle beneath his feet. "Why did we lose contact?"

GAIA takes a second to respond. "APOLLO has already attacked," she says gravely. "It came for the Spire, and one of its Titans destroyed Meridian."

Even Sylens's face loses some of its edges. Varl takes it like a punch to the stomach, takes half a step back, breath faltering. Meridian had been so vast, so full of people. Had they all been lost? And the others, Aloy's friends... the sudden depth of grief that strikes Varl is staggering. Tainted lands, they'd always been taught. But he knows the truth of the Old Ones now, and he'd been there. Seen its teeming population. Defended it from the same attack that had razed the Embrace.

The reality of the situation hits Varl again. They cannot hope to stand against a Metal Devil.

But the same thing is  _not_  going to happen to the Nora, Varl swears to himself. Not again.

"I am not currently aware of MINERVA's status, nor if Vanasha, Avad, or Erend survived," GAIA continues. "MINERVA disabled the Spire and severed it from the system, which crashed the Focus network."

"Then she bought us time," Sylens says, while Varl struggles to find his voice again. "APOLLO was going to use it to broadcast to the other Titans. Either he'll have to spend time repairing it, or find another way."

GAIA nods. "Aloy and I are taking steps to ensure that GAIA Prime's transmission channels cannot be utilized," she says. "The nearest tower is at the other end of the continent. That will delay him a while. HEPHAESTUS is in Cauldron ZETA, but as Petra was in Free Heap at the time of the network's crash, I am not aware of her status. HEPHAESTUS and I are currently reprogramming machines to dismantle the Titans, but the effectiveness of that strategy is limited. However," she glances at Sylens again, "ELEUTHIA has informed me of your claim that the Titans themselves can be used."

"All of your subordinate functions are capable of the same things that APOLLO is," Sylens says.

GAIA's voice is suddenly hard. "Including HADES?"

Sylens shrugs, unmoved by the way she glares at him. "That was necessary."

"You will have to explain that to Aloy," GAIA says, glancing behind her at something they can't see.

A moment later, another shimmering figure emerges out of nowhere. Aloy stands before them, carved out of purple light, and Varl has rarely seen such open fury on her face before. Aloy has eyes for only one person in the room.

"You bastard," she spits out at Sylens, stalking forward from the center of the room, towards the loose semi-circle they've formed. The effect, set against the holographic trees, is rather like an enraged hunter cornering her prey. "You two-faced son of a-"

"That seems excessive," Sylens interjects smoothly. He regards her calmly as she comes to a halt before him, face-to-face. "My information is going to save us."

Aloy draws in an obvious breath, her fists curled as if she wants nothing more than to strike him. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demands.

Her holographic form makes her seem larger-than-life, looming over Sylens, but he remains untroubled. "Would you really have agreed to it?" he asks, taking half a step forward, his shoulders squaring. "Letting HADES live?"

"What if I needed to use the master override again?" Aloy asks. The two of them stand bristling, radiating so much tension that Varl can feel it. "How am I supposed to use it on APOLLO if you  _broke_  it?"

"It's not broken," Sylens says scathingly. "The coding was in the lance. It merely transferred and allowed me some remote adjustments. But our goal should be to trap APOLLO, as I've trapped HADES."

"No," Varl says swiftly, rounding on him, as does Aloy and GAIA in the same breath.

Sylens's eyes flash. He doesn't lose ground, even with the three of them now facing him accusingly. "APOLLO contains all of the knowledge of the ancients. We cannot destroy that." He is suddenly impassioned, his cool demeanor broken. "Thousands of years of knowledge! Something like that can't simply be regained in our lifetime."

"No," Aloy says again, hotly. "He's too much of a threat to contain. We're killing him."

"It worked on HADES," Sylens says, just as hotly.

"HADES," Aloy says, "is a  _child_. APOLLO has been around for centuries. You can't just put it in a container and hope that works. All of that knowledge won't do us any good if APOLLO kills us!"

Silence settles, strained and uncomfortable, as the two glare at each other.

"My subordinate systems and I contain information related to our protocols," GAIA says, drawing everyone's eye. "APOLLO is not the only source." She looks to Sylens. "He contains more information than any of us, but not all of it will be lost if APOLLO is destroyed."

GAIA appears entirely composed and steady in her speech, but Varl remembers the database that ELEUTHIA is unable to access. That doesn't seem to be destroyed, only cut off, which means that there might be more left of the original APOLLO than they'd thought. Is GAIA lying? Or obscuring the truth? Considering all that Sylens has done, Varl can't fault her for it, and he tries to keep his face composed as well as he listens.

Sylens does not look entirely placated. "I found Ted Faro's bunker," he says abruptly.

Silence falls again, loud and ringing this time.

"HADES told me its location," Sylens continues. "Another thing he learned from APOLLO. Can you guess what I found inside? Faro's miserable corpse and an explanation he left behind, among other things." He gives them all a dark look. "Do you want to hear it?"

After a long moment, Aloy nods shortly.

Sylens raises a hand to his Focus. He's not connected to the system like the rest of them, not with the removal of Omega access, but he glances at ELEUTHIA, and she shifts. A moment later, a disembodied voice rings throughout the room, speaking across ages.

 _"APOLLO killed the Odyssey's crew,"_ a man says, frantic, fearful, unhinged. _"It destroyed the ship. It killed them all. It's at the edge of the solar system, if it's even still alive, and it can't do anything there. But what about the one here? Far Zenith had their hands in that one, too. It had the same potential. It would have destroyed the people who come after us, one way or another. Even if it never woke up. If it did... they couldn't have killed it. I had to destroy it first."_ A pause, a shaky intake of breath. _"And I had to kill them. The Alphas. I had to. I couldn't let them undo it. Couldn't let them find a way to bring APOLLO back online."_

"Couldn't leave anyone alive who knew what you'd done!" Aloy snarls.

_"God, I fucked up. I know I fucked up. But Far Zenith is gone. Everyone still here is dead. I made sure of it. Every last trace of them is gone, except for me and the swarm and the Omega access, but GAIA will take care of the swarm, and no one knows about the access anymore except for me. I’ve done what I can to get rid of their influence. I've fixed things. I've fixed them now."_

The recording stops. The silence creeps back in.

"That, I presume, was a suicide note," Sylens says dispassionately. "The bunker showed little sign of having been lived in."

Varl wonders if he just enjoys saying things out of spite, to make others uncomfortable.

"APOLLO has been a killer from the beginning," Sylens continues. "I saw what he did to his loyal servants, once they became liabilities. I am not underestimating the threat he poses to us. But have you considered that the master override may not be a kill switch at all?"

The quiet could be cut with a knife, stifling in its heaviness, as Varl runs through the recording in his head again, pulling the conclusion that Sylens is indicating from Ted Faro's frantic words. Finally, Aloy looks past them, towards the holographic forest, at something Varl can't see. "The Titan core that HADES was using at the Spire," she murmurs, and even across a hologram, she looks sick. "I used the master override to get access to it." She runs a distracted hand through her hair. "Far Zenith tampered with it." There is no surprise in her voice, only a dreadful confirmation of something she already knew.

"Faro was the one who requested the override's installation," Sylens says grimly. "I assume a different kind of override was its intention. Not to destroy any part of GAIA if her psyche developed unfavorably," his eyes find GAIA's hologram for a moment, "but to control her and the rest of Zero Dawn if Far Zenith decided to initiate a takeover. I believe its true purpose was to replace Zero Dawn directives with new ones, if necessary. It was far too easy to reprogram the override to my specifications. I was not so much altering its code as I was adjusting it slightly."

GAIA's face falls. She moves suddenly, leaving the semi-circle, and it surprises Varl, who is accustomed to a rather unnatural stillness from her. She paces a bit, and the forest glimmers through her. "Elisabet was against the construction of a master override," she says, not looking at them. "I convinced her that it was a sound idea."

"It isn't your fault," Aloy says, practically a growl. "It's Faro's." She sighs through gritted teeth and looks out at nothing, reluctant resolve settling into her restless form. "Alright. You win," she says to Sylens. "So... we stick the systems into Titans and use that to get me close enough to APOLLO to use the master override on him? And he goes into your container? And that'll work?"

"In all likelihood," Sylens says. "I suspect that Far Zenith used their copy of APOLLO as a baseline from which to tamper with the programming specifications of the master override. And if HEPHAESTUS is able to manufacture something similar to this," he jerks a hand at the lantern, "then we will have enough to handle all of the remaining subordinate functions, not just APOLLO. However, if MINERVA's status is unknown, that leaves us with only three allies, including HADES. Three against APOLLO and its four, not to mention the other Titans it will reactivate if we don't stop it in time. We'll have to be quick."

"The rest of the them are with APOLLO?" Aloy asks, aghast.

Sylens nods once, grimly.

They'd suspected it, of course. But they'd held some hope of the other subordinate functions lingering elsewhere, similarly conflicted about what to do next, who could perhaps be coaxed out with their Alphas in time. Erend's, however, hadn't shown up at all, and there had to have been a reason. Varl's eyes find ELEUTHIA. He can't imagine her, with her worry and her tendency to lay familial claim on everyone she meets, turning on humanity.

"We have four candidates," GAIA says firmly, coming back to join their semi-circle. "Including myself. I believe that I can successfully sever myself from the Zero Dawn system."

Sylens arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "That would even the odds. APOLLO would not be acting so hastily if he didn't fear you."

"Are we really going to use HADES?" Varl asks, shooting a look at the lantern in Sylens's hands.

It's GAIA who answers, in the hesitation that follows. "If the situation requires it," she says, directing her gaze at the lantern as well, "we may have no choice but to trust him."

"My current objective is to restrict APOLLO," HADES says again, breaking his silence.

An uneasy quiet falls in turn. The statement is not particularly comforting.

* * *

Aloy waits until Varl and Sylens have disappeared before taking a step forward and leaning against the desk in the center of the shrine room, steadying herself on its edge, closing her eyes to Elisabet's face floating before her.

For all of her anger at Sylens and his secrecy and his trust issues, they know a little more because of him, and there is no need to arrive at the conclusion of using the Titans on their own. The Nora will be protected, if Varl and the others can act in time. GAIA is hard at work studying and replicating the virus that HADES had used, the nanites she'd borrowed from HEPHAESTUS. APOLLO is stalled, and the responsive machines are already shifting their patterns in accordance with the reprogramming signals. Things are happening, moving.

And yet Aloy hears Ted Faro's voice in her head, over and over again.  _It destroyed the ship. It killed them all._

She doesn't care about that. She doesn't care that Ted probably killed himself not long after he killed the rest of the Far Zenith and the Alphas. He and Far Zenith deserved it. So why does she still feel so sick to her stomach?

Just another piece of the past that's nothing but misery and death, another piece that's come back to haunt them.

"Aloy," GAIA says softly, and Aloy opens her eyes. She lifts her head and finds Elisabet's face watching her from the memorial, as always. GAIA's hologram watches her too, standing close. "Are you alright?"

Aloy drops her eyes to the desk again. "He killed them," she echoes. "APOLLO has been like this for a thousand years. Why? Why is he doing this?" HADES, at least, she understands. Extinction had been built into his very makeup. But it hadn't only been the intervening years in space that had warped APOLLO, like Aloy had assumed. He had been a killer since before Zero Day.

"I cannot say," GAIA says.

"Then give me a guess," Aloy says. She doesn't want to think about this anymore, but she can't stop.

GAIA doesn't answer immediately, and Aloy releases the edge of the desk and straightens. She looks away from Elisabet's transparent face and finds GAIA's instead. "The development of my psyche was highly dependent on interaction with others," GAIA says finally, thoughtfully. "Primarily with Elisabet, but I spent time with all of the Alphas and their teams." She falters for a moment, and once again, Aloy remembers that, no matter how the past tugs at her with a disconnected kind of grief, it must be that much worse for GAIA. She lifts her hands from the table and almost reaches out, before she remembers that GAIA is only a hologram, is a mind without a body. "APOLLO would have awoken and found himself with only Far Zenith for company."

Aloy looks down again, thinking. "But where did he learn to kill? They weren't the kind of killers who would get their hands dirty like that." Indirect murderers who deserved what they got, but from what she can tell, not like Helis and his kind.

"Why have you killed?" GAIA asks.

Aloy tenses. Her left hand goes up and ghosts over her throat, over the scar there. "To protect myself and other people," she says, and then she understands what GAIA is getting at. "To put down threats."

"I think you may find your answer in that," GAIA says. "HEPHAESTUS's notion of humanity as a threat was not born in a vacuum. Neither was APOLLO's, I presume. He carries the history of the human race, and it is often an ugly thing. But if I must guess, I would say that APOLLO learned from the sample of humanity contained with the Odyssey and found it wanting."

Aloy sighs. "I would've wanted to kill them too," she murmurs. She meets GAIA's eyes. "Do you think he can be reasoned with?"

Not that he deserves anything of the sort. Not after Meridian. APOLLO is not acting out of self-defense, as HEPHAESTUS had been.

"I cannot make an informed guess about that," GAIA says. "However, it would be unwise to make that a priority. If the occasion arises, perhaps we could try, but in the meantime, we must concentrate our efforts first on protecting ourselves and then on neutralizing the threat as quickly as possible."

Aloy nods and looks to the symbols of ELEUTHIA and HEPHAESTUS floating on nearby interfaces, at the interface now absent MINERVA's symbol. Her eyes trace the shrine room as she turns, until they land on Sylens's lance and the master override tucked against the opposite corner. She moves forward, calling up files that Sylens had transferred to her before disconnecting, and she's aware of GAIA's hologram disappearing, as GAIA re-absorbs herself in her main tasks. "HEPHAESTUS."

"I am here," HEPHAESTUS's voice says in her ear, short and brusque. 

Aloy raises a hand to transfer the files and hesitates. "I'm sure Petra is fine," she tells him, and she doesn't have to fake her optimism too much. Even with their connection to Petra lost, she can easily envision the woman's next steps: she'll correctly regard the Focus network crash as bad news, and then it's only a matter of time before she shows up at Cauldron ZETA. "She's tough."

"She is human," HEPHAESTUS says moodily. "Humans are fragile."

"She'd knock you over the head for that one if she could," Aloy says, trying for humor, but it doesn't come out quite right, and HEPHAESTUS isn't one for jokes, anyway. Aloy sighs. "Thank you for staying," she adds. She hadn't been privy to that particular conversation between GAIA and HEPHAESTUS when they'd finally reconnected, but GAIA had told her that HEPHAESTUS had remained in Cauldron ZETA of his own accord, trying to contact them.

A beat of silence passes before HEPHAESTUS responds, as if he's making himself remember to. "You are welcome," he says, monotone, listless.

"We need you," Aloy continues softly, because she doesn't know what to say comfort him. She's not so great at comforting herself, either. She stares at the master override for a long moment and then transfers the files from Sylens with a flick of her wrist. At the very least, maybe she can distract him. "I've got a job for you."

* * *

The candlelight flickers in the Great Chamber of All-Mother, and Varl is aware of every shadow, every shifting pattern of yellow light, as he enters. Another light glows within, all colors at once, and Varl meets GAIA's eyes somewhat nervously. She offers him a small reassuring smile, then turns her attention to the people who enter behind him. Varl steps out of the way to give his mother and the High Matriarchs a clear view of GAIA standing before the Cradle door.

It's nearly dawn. Varl had sped to Mother's Heart on the back of a calmed strider, but the walk back with others in tow had taken longer, had him twitching with worry every step of the way. He's itching to retrieve ELEUTHIA and Sylens and make the climb up the mountain to one of the Metal Devils, unable to shake thoughts of the creatures waking before they've had a chance to even look at them, but a relocation has to get underway first.

So he stands quietly and watches as his mother and High Matriarchs lay eyes on the real Goddess for the first time.

"All-Mother," Lansra breathes. She is the first to drop to her knees, followed by Jezza, then finally Teersa, whose eyes mist over.

Sona stands rigid, staring at GAIA, and Varl watches her. He regrets dropping this on her all at once, but he needs her. If there's anyone who can organize this quickly enough, who can make the hard decisions of wartime, it's her.

"That won't be necessary," GAIA says gently. She steps forward, the golden glow of her swirling dress accentuated by yellow-orange candlelight. "Please rise. I apologize for my long silence. But the world is changing, at long last."

Varl turns his attention to her, to her walk that's not quite a walk, that doesn't quite mesh with the ground, and listens to her carefully chosen words, the way her voice rises and falls rather like a human's but echoes with something metallic. She's so different from her subordinate functions, and yet, looking at her, it's hard to see anything but a Goddess. Varl doesn't know where he stands on the matter anymore. He understands that she is an artificial intelligence, a machine created by humans, but she is so much more than any human or machine that he knows.

"All-Mother," Teersa says joyously. She is the first to clamber back to her feet, and she reaches out. GAIA lets her, raises her own hand so that Teersa's can pass through hers and understand that she is nothing but light. "That I have lived to see this day!"

"You have appeared to us at last!" Lansra says hoarsely.

"I wish I came with better news," GAIA says. Jezza is on her feet as well, and Lansra rises shakily. "The Nora are in danger. The Metal Devils are waking up."

The air shifts, no longer quite so joyous, and Varl's eyes are drawn to the claw that protrudes through the rock above. No longer a thing of the distant past, of rigid belief held too close. No longer a tale told to scare children into behaving.

The Matriarchs' faces drop, and Sona finally stirs. She meets Varl's eyes briefly, then steps forward towards GAIA and bows her head. "You struck them down once, All-Mother," she says.

"I did," GAIA says. "And I will again. But the battle will be fierce. It is not a battle you can fight. You have sheltered within the mountain before, but this will be worse. You must bring the tribe here. Behind this door, in my heart," she gestures to it, "there is enough room and food to shelter you for some time. You cannot take cover anywhere else. The Metal Devils will strike at settlements first. You must ensure that no one is there for them to find."

The Matriarchs exchange glances, faces overcome with the dizzying turn of events. "Is there no other way, All-Mother?" Jezza asks. Her hands move half-heartedly in supplication, pleading, plaintive. "Our people have already lost their homes to cursed machines once."

"I know," GAIA says. "I am sorry. But homes can be rebuilt. Lives cannot."

Sona's face tightens, hands curling at her sides. "How long do we have?" she asks. Not questioning it, not protesting. Already planning, if the look in her eyes is anything to go by. Some of the worry knotted in Varl's chest uncoils at the sight.

"I do not know," GAIA says. "But it will be soon. You must move quickly."

Varl steps forward. "All-Mother thinks we can change the Metal Devils nearby," he says and remains steady when every eye in the room fixes on him. "Turn them to our side, make them fight for us. But I have to go up to it. I have to do this," he says firmly, when Sona's face blanches for a second for calm struggles to reassert itself. He knows how much it pains her to see him go into danger, how much she fears losing her only remaining child, even if she hasn't said it directly. "But the mountain needs a... mediator. Someone to commune with it. There's not much time to explain, but..." he approaches his mother and holds out a Focus for her, pulled from the Cradle's cache, "that's you, War-Chief, if you're willing."

Sona's hand hesitates over the Focus, and her eyes find the one clipped to Varl's ear, her brows furrowing. The look she gives him is piercing, and he gets the sense that she suspects more. That she knows he's not speaking the full truth. She's known that for a while, he thinks, with every time he's had to evasively dance around explaining his visits to the Cradle.

Behind her, the Matriarchs exclaim quietly at his words, and Varl can hear their confusion. "None of it is what you think," Varl tells them, tells his mother, echoing words that Aloy had told him months ago. It had all been so different then. He knows the people are in for a shock, an upheaval, but there is no time to do this gently, not if they are meant to survive. He can only hope that GAIA's presence is enough to keep them calm for now. "Inside the mountain is... different from what you think. It was part of the Metal World a long time ago. But the Metal World was once All-Mother's world. It's not all bad."

Lansra hisses disbelievingly between her teeth, and Jezza's mouth opens and closes, but Teersa speaks before either of them. "I recall something that Aloy told me," she says. "She said the inside of the Mountain resembled a ruin of the Metal World that she encountered. I did not understand it then." She looks up at GAIA, her eyes shining. "I think I do now."

"Yes," GAIA says with a nod. "It was meant to be your world, but things have gone wrong for a long time. We finally have a chance to put things right. To heal the taint and corruption of the past, the same task I gave to Aloy." Varl had given her a quick rundown of what to say, and it had felt so strange, distilling beliefs he'd once wholeheartedly known as truth, that had begun to melt away with hardly a whisper of protest. So strange, having her turn to him for advice. "This is how it starts. But you must learn to embrace the change I bring to you."

Resolve hardens the lines of Sona's face. Her eyes find the Focus again.

"All-Mother," Lansra's voice says in protest, and they turn to look at her. "Surely one of us can serve as your mediator?"

"Enough, sister," Teersa says sharply. "All-Mother has shown nothing but wisdom in choosing her servants. War-Chief Sona has already proven herself in every capacity." Her eyes shift between the Focus Varl holds out, the one at his ear, and GAIA, and she, at least, seems to understand and accept some things without anything else needing to be said.

Sona nods sharply, glancing to GAIA, then back to Varl. "I will do this," she says, and she takes the offered Focus. She studies Varl's for a moment before clipping hers to her ear. Her eyes widen as the display appears in her sight, her eyes tracing the light in wonder that she can't conceal, and Varl almost smiles. Sona's eyes follow the arching lights back to GAIA, and she drops down to one knee. "Your trust in me is a great honor, All-Mother."

Varl's eyes meet GAIA's again, and silently, GAIA initiates the process as she speaks. "Please rise," she says again, stepping towards Sona. The action ripples through her form, the light dancing - every inch a Goddess. "I know my trust is not misplaced. Varl and Aloy speak highly of you."

Sona gets to her feet, and Alpha Aether stands before Varl.

It hadn't taken them long to debate the merits of adding someone else into one of the few slots left the Registry. If something happens to them, to GAIA, they can't leave the Nora without a way to access the Cradle. Sylens is right - it may soon be the only safe place for miles.

Not that it's safety will matter much in the end, if they fail.


	11. Chapter 11

The strider is fast-moving for its small size. Its hooves pound the earth, and each strike against soil jars the muscles in Petra's legs and back. After the nonstop pace, it seems like every part of her hurts, but she doesn't let the strider slow. Behind her, tramplers roar, and a part of her not concerned with flight is thankful that she's only drawn the attention of more lumbering machines, who can't quite catch up with a determined strider.

The non-responsive machines aren't like the ones before. They don't give up the chase after a while to return to their mechanical routines. Patterned after animal intelligence, HEPHAESTUS had said, with machine tenacity and tirelessness. A delightful mix.

But Cauldron ZETA is close. As soon as Petra had lost contact with Aloy, with HEPHAESTUS, with everyone, she'd made a swift decision and packed a quick bag for a trip to ZETA. It takes longer to get there when going at a reasonable pace, but Petra has pushed on through the night on the back of a swift machine, and as the absolute darkness of early morning gives way to a lighter gray, she begins to recognize familiar slopes and sparse clusters of trees. The air carries a scent that she hasn't quite been able to stop thinking of as home, but she isn't able to appreciate the smells and sights of the Claim's southernmost contested border. Not with a herd of tramplers at her back.

When they reach the dale that slopes down to ZETA, Petra is aware of shadowy shapes moving in the trees ahead, alight with an orange glow that shines through the mist of the gray pre-dawn. For one instinctive second, her stomach plummets, and her body tenses in preparation for attack from both front and back, automatically calculating the feasibility of taking to the rocky slopes on either side.

But a few scrappers and ravagers stream past her, launching themselves at the tramplers, and Petra brings her strider to a rearing halt, nearly wilting in relief. She turns and watches as another ravager, bigger than the rest and streaming with orange light, joins the fray a moment later, tearing into the nearest trampler with a vengeance that surprises her.

The pack of scrappers and ravagers makes short work of the herd, and as Petra shakily dismounts the strider, the biggest ravager bounds up to her. It shoves its head against her, nearly knocking her off of her feet, and Petra clings to it to steady herself, fingers digging into metal grooves. "I'm alright," she says, smiling, regaining her balance, but she keeps a hand on the ravager's head.

"Are you hurt?" HEPHAESTUS demands, no longer with a statement of query attached.

Petra wonders if he even heard her in his panic. "No," she says firmly. "Just tired. That was some ride."

"You are here," HEPHAESTUS says, and Petra knows that it means he's a little overwhelmed and doesn't know how to express it.

"I am," she says. "I set out as soon as the Focus network went down. What happened?"

HEPHAESTUS pushes a little closer to her and explains - the network crash, the subsequent reconnection with GAIA a few hours later, the reason for it, his and GAIA's immediate actions to thwart it. As he speaks, the other machines drag trampler bodies and parts down the length of the dale, towards the Cauldron entrance. But Petra is hardly aware of the movement around them.

Meridian? Gone?

"You are not well," HEPHAESTUS says, when he finishes and Petra says nothing, staring at a point beyond him.

"No, I'm..." Petra stops and tries to pull herself back into the present. "I'm just... upset." She presses her lips together and draws in a breath of the Claim's rocky air, steadying herself against her swooping stomach. For a moment, all she can see is Meridian as she remembers it - rebuilding in the wake of the battle for the Spire, building the elevators in darker times. It seems impossible to imagine the place otherwise. It stood through Jiran, through Helis and HADES.

But she pushes it out of her mind forcefully. Is staying here the right decision? If APOLLO is out there trying to raise another army, ten times worse than the one HADES had built, then Free Heap needs to be prepared. Her people need to know. But if three of their little group fell with Meridian, then that leaves only Petra and Varl as Aloy's backups. Petra takes another breath, swearing to herself, as if that will somehow fix the bitter taste in her mouth.

The whirring of the ravager's insides seems agitated. "I did not come to find you," HEPHAESTUS says, speaking much more quickly than his usual slow pace. "I thought it best to remain here and attempt to make contact with my mother."

"You did the right thing," Petra says. "GAIA needs you."

She's never seen HEPHAESTUS so twitchy. "I wished to find you," he says. "I did not like the alternative."

"But you did it," Petra says, as much to herself as to him. "Sometimes we have to make hard choices." She sighs, drops her head, and rubs the ravager's metal neck. "I can't leave Free Heap at unawares. They need to know about this."

"No," HEPHAESTUS says at once, rather possessively. "It is dangerous. Cauldron ZETA is fortified. You must remain here."

It pains her to hear actual fear in his voice, a fear of loss lurking somewhere below his brusque exterior - an abrupt reminder that, relative to his own kind, he's underdeveloped and young. "My people need me to look out for them," Petra says. "Just like GAIA needs you. You have to stay here, and I have to go back. Just a quick trip."

The ravager sits back on its haunches, and the orange light coils restlessly. Then its head tilts to the side. A scrapper comes bounding out of the darkness of the forested part of the dale and halts before them. It sits, staring at Petra. "Units are equipped with holographic recording measures," HEPHAESTUS says. "This unit can carry a message to Free Heap in your stead, following a programmed route. Additional units can be deployed with it to ensure defense."

Petra eyes the scrapper, then turns back to HEPHAESTUS, a slow smile breaking out across her face. "You genius," she says fondly. "Alright. Give me a second to think."

* * *

In the earliest hours of the morning, they shelter against a mesa's cliffside that runs along the river, taking as long of a break as they dare. The earliest flickers of dawn creep across the stone, a slow advance of dusty yellow-pink and warmth to replace night's chill, but Vanasha feels no relief with the coming of the Sun. They've covered an impossible amount of ground on the backs of broadheads, dozens of miles flashing by in a mere matter of hours, but Vanasha feels no triumph. She leans against an outcropping of rock within the shadow of the cliffside and feels empty.

Nearby, Avad stands rigid and stares at the ground. He's hardly said a word since they'd fled Meridian. They'd been able to see it fall, even from the distance they'd reached by the time the Metal Devil had torn into the city. Vanasha had told them not to stop, told Avad not to watch, told herself not to turn around, and yet they'd halted their machines and stared.

Next to Avad, Erend is fast asleep on the ground, comfortable there in the way that the Oseram seem to be able to sleepy soundly on any surface. Talanah had encouraged it as soon as they'd finally stopped for a rest and had made an herbal tonic using river water, wild ember, and hintergold, citing its uses among the hunters for head injuries. There's some color back in Erend's cheeks at last, but Vanasha is still concerned about the way he'd drooped over his broadhead's back as they rode.

Before her, Talanah listens as Vanasha dully relates the gist of the situation to her at last. She paces furiously as she does, a contrast to their stillness, and Vanasha finds herself grateful for the woman's energy when she herself has none left. They're re-armed thanks to the plethora of weapons that Talanah carries with her, and she'd known exactly where to find a herd of friendly broadheads for mounts.

And just beyond, MINERVA's new armored form stands guard, a silent sentinel looking out the way they'd come. The creeping sunlight shines off of the metal and its flashing hexagons, outlining her in a soft gold and purple glow. MINERVA seems certain of the armor's ability to cloak her signal, something she'd stressed the importance of. According to her, there's a herd of tallnecks nearby, part of the first wave of the now-useless joint effort put forth by her and HEPHAESTUS and GAIA, but she'd cautioned against using them to contact GAIA just yet, in case APOLLO is searching for them.

"So it was for nothing," Talanah says, when Vanasha's voice trails off. She ceases pacing, looking distraught. "Everything we did to defend the Spire and protect Meridian before, and it's happening anyway."

Vanasha can't find it in herself to disagree. The determination that had carried her off of the Spire and pushed her to flee no longer burns within her - a spent flame, expended on thoughts of all she does not know. Is Marad still alive? Is Uthid? Is Nasadi, Itamen? Do they think that she's dead, that Avad is dead? Where would they and any other survivors have gone for safety, when faced with with such a tremendous threat?

To her surprise, Avad's voice suddenly cuts through the silence. "No," he says, looking up. His voice is still hoarse, but it holds steady. "Not for nothing. We bought time. Aloy - _we_ know more than we did before. We have advantages that we didn't have then." His eyes dart to MINERVA as he speaks.

Talanah follows his gaze, and her brows furrow. She shakes her head, looking back at them. "And we're just going to trust that? After HADES and this APOLLO, and what they did?"

Vanasha straightens, ready to protest, but MINERVA speaks first. "That is a reasonable concern," she says, projecting her voice aloud for Talanah's benefit, though the armor doesn't turn around. Her voice sounds different when it's not coming through Vanasha's Focus - metallic, cased in the armor as well. She's gotten good enough with language to be able to hear what isn't said, Vanasha realizes. "However, you do not need to worry. I have spent a great deal of time with your kind. My mother says that it has stabilized my development and that I have a natural predilection towards cooperation, due to my protocol."

"She saved us," Vanasha says, bristling, and her throat wants to clog as she does. She doesn't look at MINERVA.

Talanah's expression softens somewhat. She glances between MINERVA and Vanasha, then nods. "Alright." She focuses on Vanasha. "Your suggestion to use friendly machines to help was a good one." She indicates the broadheads idling nearby with a jerk of her head. "I'm not opposed to trusting machines. I just had to ask."

The fight leaves Vanasha as quickly as it had come. "I know," she sighs. She wouldn't be alive today if she didn't stop to question things.

Silence falls, heavy and thick. Talanah drifts over to the broadheads, methodically checking over their scant supplies even though she's already done so more than once, and Vanasha knows that she's trying to process everything she's just been told. Avad crouches down to check on Erend, even though he's already done so more than once.

They don't make a move to keep going just yet. They're too tired and sore, and the land behind them is quiet, with MINERVA keeping a vigilant watch. Their destination is much closer than GAIA Prime: Cauldron ZETA, where HEPHAESTUS usually likes to reside these days, on the chance that HEPHAESTUS is there and the Cauldron remains connected to GAIA Prime. They can afford a small break.

Vanasha steps to MINERVA's side and stands next to the armor. Dawn light brightens minutely around them, but once again, the Sun brings Vanasha no comfort. "How's the damage?" she asks.

"Repairs are at fifty percent," MINERVA responds. "I am fine, Vanasha."

Vanasha stares out at the land behind them, at the yellow haze blanketing it. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

The armor stirs, and its head tilts to face her. "I do not understand," MINERVA says.

"I left you up there," Vanasha says, and the words taste bitter in her mouth, "to save myself."

"That was prudent," MINERVA says. "You were not equipped to combat APOLLO. Staying would have been a needless sacrifice."

"You shouldn't have had to sacrifice yourself," Vanasha says, and she holds up a hand as the armor shifts again. "I know. I know you made it anyway. But what if you hadn't? Aloy gave me this position to protect Zero Dawn. To protect _you_. I failed in that." She knows that it's irrational, that she is no position to wage any kind of solitary fight against MINERVA's kind. They are something beyond humanity, beyond anything that Vanasha has ever known. But Vanasha can't stop hearing the fear that had laced MINERVA's voice at the idea of confronting APOLLO.

MINERVA is silent for a few moments. Hexagons flare over the metal, and the armor's head turns back to its forward position, tracking something in the distance. But it's only a few machines so far away that Vanasha can't even make out what they are. Their blue glow shines against the gray-gold light of early morning. "Relationships are only fulfilling if they are reciprocated," MINERVA says, turning bodily to face Vanasha now. It sounds like something ELEUTHIA would say. "If it is your duty to protect me, then it is also my duty to protect you. That is a duty I gladly accept."

Vanasha's breath halts somewhere in her chest. She smiles, tremulous and not exactly happy. "I... thank you."

"You are welcome," MINERVA says, but her light is still restless. "That does not make you feel better, does it?"

"No," Vanasha says, with a breathy chuckle. "Not really. But that's just something we do. Feel bad about things no matter what."

"That does not seem like an advantageous trait," MINERVA observes. "However..." she goes silent again, and Vanasha waits, "... I seem to share it. The failure was mine, not yours, Vanasha. I was unable to sense APOLLO's approach, likely due to his signal being obscured by this form I now inhabit, and I could not keep him from the broadcast tower and protect myself at the same time."

"Hey," Vanasha protests. "That's not fair. APOLLO has a thousand years on you. The fact that you stole that armor at all is amazing."

"APOLLO holds even more of an advantage over you," MINERVA says, a little rapidly, in the way she talks when she's especially eager to get words out. "Is it not equally unfair to blame yourself for rightfully fleeing from him?"

Vanasha stands there for a moment, her mouth hanging open, as she realizes that MINERVA had manipulated the conversation exactly where she wanted it to go. She'd maneuvered Vanasha into admitting the actual, rational truth, and Vanasha had walked right into it, unused to the subordinate functions displaying anything like subtlety. She breathes out a tired sound that's almost a laugh. "You're right," she concedes. She knows when she's defeated, and she regards MINERVA with a blossoming pride. "You're absolutely right."

"Does _that_ make you feel better?" MINERVA presses.

"It does," Vanasha says and means it. "That was really good, by the way."

The armor stares at her a moment longer, then shifts to gaze at the horizon again. "Thank you, Vanasha."

Vanasha knows that she should sit somewhere, conserve as much energy as possible, but she remains where she is, at MINERVA's side, watching the horizon with her. None of them make a move to continue just yet. Just a few more minutes of rest, especially for Erend's sake.

The decision of when to move is made for them when the armor suddenly turns, spinning to face in the opposite direction in the same instant that Talanah calls out a warning.

In the distance, to the north, a line of machines moves towards them, glinting in the encroaching daylight, and Vanasha doesn't need MINERVA's additional warning to know that they are hostile. Erend is already awake and getting to his feet, and he waves off Avad's help. "I feel better," he says, even though he squints, and a hand unconsciously strays to his head. "Got a killer headache, though," he admits, under three pairs of disbelieving eyes.

"That's to be expected," Talanah says, her conversational tone at odds with the way she readies herself for battle. "Keep that tonic close, and keep drinking it every few hours. It'll help heal whatever damage your head took."

The line to the north is spread out, full of far too much intent to be an accident and too much for the non-responsive machines. APOLLO is capable of overrides, Vanasha thinks, gripping her new weapons. Could it have taken these over somehow and corrupted them, as HADES and his army had once done?

The river to the left is wide and deep now, impossible to cross with broadheads and a difficult swim for exhausted, injured people. They can't go back.

"We break through," Erend says grimly, as Talanah grips her bow tightly. The rest of them have her spares - two spears, a few knives, a blast sling, and a ropecaster, hardly an arsenal when spread between four people.

"Wait," MINERVA says, and they all shift to look at her. "I am requesting assistance. We should remain here."

Vanasha doesn't hesitate, nodding, and the others follow suit. They wait in the shadow of the mesa, sitting uneasily on the broadheads, as the line of machines draws closer. They soon become distinguishable - mostly behemoths, with a few ravagers accompanying them. Vanasha's Focus highlights the green infusing them, the inky metalburn visible in her normal sight as well. Corruption, but not APOLLO's blue.

Their broadheads stir, as if wanting to attack, but MINERVA shifts, and they calm.

Vanasha can hear the machines now, a clacking thundering of metal on dry ground. She trusts MINERVA, but she can't stop herself from tensing, deeper instincts prompting her both to fight and to flee, not wait.

Then she hears something else - a deeper rumble than that of the approaching line, rhythmic and methodical, slow but inevitable.

The machines draw close, nearly at the mesa, their eyes tinted green.

When the first tallneck comes into view, Vanasha's breath once again catches in her chest. The towering creature intersects the line of machines, and one of its legs comes down to smash into a behemoth, shattering it into pieces. The act is so casual that Vanasha isn't sure if the tallneck is actually aware of anything, but it sweeps forward as the line of machines scatters, and its broad steps catch another one, this time sending it flying.

More tallnecks come into view, their thunderous steps intercepting the hostile machines, smashing and tossing. Vanasha and the others can only watch in utter awe, until a behemoth manages to break through the assault. It hurdles onward, past the obstructing line of tallnecks, and Talanah spurs her broadhead forward. In one smooth, swift motion, she plants an arrow into the behemoth's freeze canister, which shatters and sinks an icy frost into the creature. It stumbles and falls as Talanah stops her broadhead, and one of the tallnecks sweeps around, facing them.

Vanasha actually winces when it brings its mighty foot down on the behemoth.

Talanah goes rigid, but the tallneck only takes one more step forward and then stops, utterly motionless, before them. Slowly, the other three do the same, forming a solemn line.

For a moment, no one is able to speak. The tallnecks rise above them, as high as the mesa, glistening in the early morning light. Vanasha has never seen a tallneck still before, let alone hostile towards anything. She is suddenly, fervently glad that the Derangement hadn't affected them.

MINERVA strides forward and looks up at the tallnecks, silent communication passing between them. The tallnecks move again, taking methodical steps backwards and then turning to head back the way they came. The ground vibrates as they walk, a shiver that runs up the legs of the broadheads. Vanasha nudges her broadhead forward to round the mesa and watch the towering machines depart. A herd of tallnecks, she thinks in wonder, as the four of them stride off towards the east.

"The redirect was a brief transmission," MINERVA says. "I do not believe APOLLO would be able to detect it. However, I did not find it prudent to keep the broadcast units as a precautionary measure. Further unshielded transmissions would increase the chances of APOLLO detecting us."

There is the matter of the corrupted machines coming from the north instead of the south, and the color they carried, but Vanasha isn't quite ready to think about it just yet. It's not like they can do anything except press forward.

"Fire and spit," Erend says faintly. "That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen."

"Thank you, Erend," MINERVA says, audible satisfaction in her voice.

* * *

A few children cluster around Teb, full of questions and worries. He reassures them patiently and uses some of the toys in the playroom to distract them. Aloy doesn't see what they see; only their holographic forms are visible to her, not the pristine interior of the ELEUTHIA facility, but from the way that Teb and the other Nora eye it, she'd think it was a far worse place.

With GAIA utterly absorbed in her main task, so much that even her ability to split her attention between numerous tasks is halved, Aloy has taken over holographically overseeing the slow relocation of the Nora back into the Cradle that had produced their ancestors. She doesn't bristle when they call her Anointed and doesn't let herself get frustrated. She uses it as best she can, to reassure them that this is All-Mother's will and for their own protection.

It seems to be working, between her and GAIA, between Sona's unyielding composure and Teersa's reassurances and the enterprising actions of people like Teb, who take it upon themselves to calm others more unnerved about being confined underground in a metal facility. The children Teb watches over are orphans with no close family, collectively looked after by the tribe. Most of them had lost family members in the Eclipse attack.

"Did All-Mother really create you herself?" a young girl asks her, no older than seven, pulling away from Teb and the others. She stands in front of Aloy, and her eyes shine. From her end, all she sees is a being of light.

"Yes," Aloy says, trying not to frown.

The girl's eyes go wide. "Then why were you cast out?" she asks solemnly.

Teb starts and reaches out for her, stepping away from the other children now clustered around the strange toys, the likes of which they've never seen before. "That's not a nice question to ask," he says, giving Aloy an apologetic look.

But Aloy shakes her head. "It's fine," she says and leans down a bit to be closer to the girl's eye level. "The Matriarchs made a mistake. It wasn't right, but... they thought I was something else." Only Teersa had understood a portion of the truth, and the woman's glad face when Aloy had appeared to them holographically had disarmed something in Aloy. Giving the Goddess to Teersa, at least, had felt right.

"Oh," the girl says, and Teb ushers her back to the other children.

"Sorry," he says, when he returns to Aloy's side a few seconds later. The children gather around the toys, wholly absorbed. Their glittering holographic presence marks a strange contrast to Aloy's physical surroundings. She stands on a jutting internal part of the GAIA Prime's mountain, just outside a portion of the new facility, jagged rock covered in a light dusting of snow that's snaked its way past the walls of the crater that loom above. Scourge is right beside her, and the sawtooth eyes the placid stormbird that perches on the roof of the facility.

"It's okay," Aloy says. "Children want to know everything." The ghost of a smile tugs at her mouth at memories of Rost turning every question into a lesson. But they're fleeting, and Aloy turns her full attention to Teb, giving him a keen look. "How are you holding up?"

"Ah..." Teb shrugs, a little self-consciously, "I'll be alright. I don't know if I can get _used_ to this." He casts troubled eyes about him, at things Aloy can't see but can easily envision - a playroom with its strange construction, its metal walls and ceiling and floor, its odd toys and seats and lights. "But I'll live." He gives Aloy a faint smile. "You don't have to check up on me."

Aloy shrugs. "I want to," she says. She's lingered here a bit longer than she has in the other rooms because she's tired of reverence, something that is blessedly absent in Teb.

Teb's smile deepens a little, but the reality of the situation wipes it away quickly. This time, his nervous eyes settle on Aloy. "Are you..." he glances at the children and drops his voice to a whisper, "going to fight the Metal Devils yourself?"

Aloy hesitates for a moment, feeling the weight of the lance on her back. "I am," she says, and she pours conviction into her voice, even as her stomach roils at the thought. "But I'll have help." She glances at the stormbird as she speaks. "All-Mother's help."

"May she protect you," Teb says fervently. He eyes her with concern and stumbles a little over his next words. "... You're always fighting for us." He shifts his feet. "Even after... well, everything."

Aloy doesn't answer right away. She stares at the holographic forms of the children. "These little ones didn't do anything wrong," she says quietly. "And you, you've been nothing but kind." She tugs at a fraying thread of her tunic; she still wears the Nora garb he stitched for her, comfortable in it when she might not be comfortable with any other kind of Nora clothing. "There are a lot of people like you. And... even the people who aren't like you... they're just ignorant. Not evil. I... I have a lot of power, Teb, more than you know. I have to use it to do good. Even if some people might not deserve it."

 _To serve a purpose greater than yourself,_  Rost's voice says in her memory.  _That is the lesson you must learn._

It sits heavy in her stomach, the certainty that she has to strive to be the  _right_  hands for the power she holds. She's seen too many examples of wrong hands. Seen the slaughter and suffering they've wrought.

Teb gazes at her, and there's a kind of soft awe to him, but it isn't like the Nora looking at their Anointed. It doesn't make Aloy twitch. "You know, I always wondered why you saved me," he says. "Why you cared."

Aloy shrugs, but she doesn't dismiss it. "Someone has to."

Teb smiles, but before Aloy can think of a way to change the subject, another voice cuts in, for Aloy's ears alone.

"Aloy," GAIA's voice says at last. "I am ready."

Aloy's stomach flips again. "I have to go," she says. "All-Mother and I... we may not be able to contact this place again for a while. Do you think everyone will be okay?" She knows it doesn't matter, that she and GAIA have bigger things to worry about, but Varl and ELEUTHIA and Sylens have already left the facility, and without GAIA or Aloy to supervise, the rest of the Nora within the mountain will be left to themselves.

Sona takes to the responsibility of the facility's management with single-minded gravity, and Teersa trusts in All-Mother's will absolutely. Together, they've exerted a kind of calm over the rest of the populace, and they already know that GAIA and Aloy will have to cease contact, but still, Aloy worries.

"We will," Teb says reassuringly. "I'll let everyone know that you've gone to battle. Be careful," he adds, concern still visible on his face.

She gives him a strained smile and murmurs a, "You too," before disconnecting. The holos disappear, leaving only the web of Focus light. A sudden awareness seems to return - of the cold air on the exposed parts of her skin that morning's light can't warm, of the towering shadow of the crater's walls and the expansive emptiness of the mountain's interior. Holographically present within the Cradle, she is larger than life to the Nora, a figure no longer quite human. Here, everything is bigger than her, and she is the only human.

Scourge coils around her, its eyes still on the stormbird. It's not exactly aggressive, but she gets the sense that it's not particularly happy, either.

"I'm not replacing you," Aloy says with a chuckle, patting the sawtooth's neck.

Scourge responds by curling into her a little more possessively.

Gently, she pushes it off and steps towards the stormbird, her eyes running over it worriedly even though she's done all she can, manually assisting GAIA in altering the creature's system in preparation. It's a vessel and a receptacle of transmission now, with a limited ability to keep GAIA in touch with ELEUTHIA and to provide sweeps of the planet's surface, for both GAIA's and HEPHAESTUS's benefit. It won't be the same as GAIA Prime's capabilities, but hopefully it will be enough to keep them informed.

It's not a subtle method, and it'll light them up like a beacon, but that may even work in their favor.

"Aloy," GAIA's voice says again, then hesitates. "... I wrongly assumed that you would be cared for by the inhabitants outside the Cradle facility. I am sorry."

Aloy frowns, wondering why they're having this conversation now. Then it hits her, and her throat tightens. They haven't had a lot of time for personal conversations yet, both of them too absorbed in repairs and the avalanche of threats. Both of them too hesitant to broach certain topics, even after Aloy had spilled her entire life story to GAIA and then some. GAIA brings it up now in case this doesn't work, in case something goes wrong with the process. In case she doesn't survive it and no time is left to restore her again.

"You don't have to apologize," Aloy says, clearing her throat. Once, being an outcast had been nothing but a source of anguish for her. It will never be right, but... how different would she have been, if she'd grown up as one of the Nora? She never would have known Rost and might never have taken to this life so avidly. Might never have met so many people and had so many experiences. "I _was_ cared for." She would never trade Rost, not for anything. And Teersa had watched over her from afar, had made sure that Aloy found her way back to the Cradle facility. To her mothers. "You were out of options. I understand."

There is a drawn out silence, then: "Elisabet would have been proud of you," GAIA says, her voice subdued. "I believe part of her always wanted a daughter, and..."

"I know," Aloy says softly. She's listened to that file the most. "Let's _both_ make her proud today."

GAIA doesn't respond. The stormbird does, extending its wings and taking to the air. As it arcs up, Aloy pats Scourge's neck and guides it forward, using the sawtooth's back as a point to leap up to the roof of one of the facility's highest levels. The stormbird veers high above and then dives, towards the center of the crater, towards GAIA Prime's system core far below at the lowest level of the facility, the machine's massive size suddenly swallowed by the vastness of the mountain's interior.

Aloy walks along the roof, and she half-imagines that she can feel its life vibrate beneath her boots. Energy and signals flow below her, throughout the entire facility, through channels embedded into and woven throughout the mountain, all the way down to its core. GAIA's beating heart and lifeblood, an irregular web that maps through the mountain.

She reaches a point where the facility itself stops and opens to a walkway, a point that gives her the best view of the gaping crater, and halts. She stands motionless atop the roof of the facility, and only the fingers of her left hand move, threading through the cords that hold Elisabet's globe and Rost's bone pendant. Before her, the mountain spreads out in its cracked-open enormity, gray-white lit by the orange-pink hue of morning. The metal wall that rises half-finished, covering the shattered parts of the mountainside, cannot keep the sun out.

Waiting seems to stretch on into infinity, even though it's only minutes. Aloy can't see into the depths of the crater, can't see the core, and her mind supplies her with imaginings - GAIA sustaining damage from the attempt, the endeavor simply not working. She tries to push them away, but her fingers become more restless as the minutes tick by, and her body follows suit, pacing a few steps, then stopping, then starting again.

Then a stormbird's screech echoes through the crater.

Aloy stills. Only her eyes move, roving, anticipating.

The machine bursts up from the misty depths, into Aloy's view, great wings carrying it aloft. For a moment, it hangs suspended against the orange-pink of dawn, and in Aloy's Focus sight, other light swirls in and around it, as gold as the sun's rays.

She smiles, and a laugh of triumph, of relief is pulled out of her, as the stormbird begins to descend in a sweeping pattern. Aloy takes several steps back, and the stormbird alights at the edge of the roof. The settling of its weight makes the metal tremble underneath Aloy's feet.

"It worked," GAIA says simply. She speaks into the air this time, her voice projected, metallic.

Aloy laughs again. "It did," she says, unable to stop smiling. Her eyes trace the glowing gold light revealed to her by the Focus, that dances like dust - the aura of GAIA's new nanites, housed within the stormbird's frame. "You did it."

"The transferal of was easier than I had anticipated," GAIA confesses. The stormbird is almost preening.

Aloy makes her way back across the roof and jumps down next to a waiting Scourge, who presses up against her. A moment later, GAIA lands nearby, and Scourge's head swivels to look at her. It recognizes one of its creators, however indirect, and pads forward, nosing at the stormbird, hostility forgotten. Aloy watches them with a lingering smile, then moves to gather up everything she'd removed from the facility earlier - supplies and necessities, all neatly packed away in rucksacks. She secures them to Scourge's back as GAIA radiates silent commands to the rest of the mountain, to HEPHAESTUS waiting in Cauldron ZETA.

Aloy and Scourge make their way out of the mountain, following the winding path of walkways built to make it less of a hazard. It takes them up and up, all the way to Sylens's workshop, and Scourge bounds out onto the Bitter Climb. Aloy hesitates at the entrance to the workshop, but she's already picked it clean of everything useful. Shaking her head, she exits and follows Scourge down the Climb, down the newly constructed walkways that wind here too. These, at least, will remain. Not all of their work on GAIA Prime will have to be sacrificed.

Aloy comes to a stop near the Alphas' grave, with Scourge beside her. Out here, the air is calm - cold, carrying a few drifting snowflakes, but no storm threatens to build, and the sky is losing its stars, slowly lightening to indigo as earliest morning creeps in. GAIA comes soaring out of the crater and circles around to perch nearby, on a craggy extension of rock. The last of the machines stream past them, heading down the Bitter Climb to join others hard at work near the foot of the mountain.

When the mountain is empty, Aloy looks up at GAIA and nods. The stormbird's head tilts towards GAIA Prime - the focal point of all of Project Zero Dawn's operations, a channel to the rest of it. They can't leave it for the taking, if APOLLO or another subordinate function shows up.

History repeats. The mountain trembles as its core explodes.

* * *

Their luck turns before they reach the Claim.

The arid north of the Sundom has begun to give way to some sparse vegetation, but there are still miles to go before they reach Cauldron ZETA. Vanasha's legs and head ache from the nonstop riding and the lack of sleep; she's rather envious of the way that the armor runs tirelessly beside them, the way that MINERVA is unencumbered by the limits of human physicality. It's been a long night, and it promises to be a long day as well, but on top of broadheads, distance that would take days to cover on foot is crossed in a matter of hours instead. According to MINERVA's calculations, a sunlight's span with few stops would see them to GAIA Prime, and even less than that will see them to ZETA first.

They've had a few more encounters with hostile machines, and ones they couldn't out-ride had been swiftly handled between the five of them. Some of the machines had been non-responsive. Some had carried the same glowing green corruption from before, and some a yellow tint instead - servants of other subordinate functions. But MINERVA, deeming sixty percent a safe enough repair threshold, had overridden several of them as necessary, replacing their green and yellow with her purple.

She isn't able to do the same to the non-responsive machines, however. Something about them stumps her, makes them nearly impossible to control.

They stop to eat at last in the shelter of a cluster of tors, when morning has well and truly arrived, and animal life and vegetation are more easily found. Talanah returns quickly with a few rabbits, and a small fire is started with sparks from one of the broadhead's blaze canisters and some bone-dry vegetation bunched together. Erend huddles near the fire, better but not recovered. Head injuries are a tricky thing, and Vanasha watches him surreptitiously, as Talanah and Avad deal with the rabbits. Vanasha had forgotten that hunting, machine and animal, is something that Avad is well-acquainted with. Sun-Kings have always had a close relationship with the Lodge.

They don't talk, working as quickly as possible, spurred on by fears of being followed. Erend rubs at his head when he thinks no one is looking, while Vanasha observes him.

Avad reaches up to his Focus a few times and frowns.

In the distance behind them, a deep rumble begins, a metal thunder beyond the horizon - nearly below the threshold of hearing, but growing and growing.

Vanasha jumps to her feet, turning her eyes south, as the armor, keeping watch at their backs as ever, stares out. The landscape is dotted with too many rock formations and dips and rises of the land to offer any kind of decent view, but the rumbling doesn't let up, distant and faint and growing. Like metal striking rock at a constant irregular pace.

"That can't be good," Vanasha murmurs.

Avad makes a small noise of shock, and Vanasha whips around to find him ripping his Focus off. He holds it in his outstretched hand, staring at it, a slow look of horror dawning on his face.

Vanasha is the first to catch up with his line of thought. Her stomach plummets with realization, with fear, and she looks back to the south, towards the thunder "We have to destroy it," she says urgently, turning back to Avad. "MINERVA..."

"Wait," Avad says quietly, and Vanasha frowns at him.

Erend gets to his feet. "Your Focus?" he says. "It's..." The realization hits him too, and blood drains from his already pale face.

Talanah looks between them, then down at the Focus, before her eyes turn to the south. "That's the Metal Devil, isn't it?" she says quietly. "How did it find us?"

It's catching up with them, even with their head start. Vanasha nods grimly, though she doesn't look away from Avad. His face is mostly composed, save for a determination sinking into it, one that Vanasha doesn't particularly like. "It's tracking the Focus," she says, pulling her eyes away to glance at MINERVA.

The armor shifts. "I believe you are correct," MINERVA says, clearly agitated. "I was not able to determine the source of the Focus malfunctions. Remote tracking could have caused such interference and been difficult to detect. In hindsight, that is a plausible explanation."

It must have been how APOLLO had known they'd be at the Spire. How it had known when to strike. The thought trickles down Vanasha's spine, clammy and awful. "We need to get rid of it and get moving," she says. It'll be a close race, to see if they can reach Cauldron ZETA before the Metal Devil reaches them. But they can do it. They _have_ to.

Avad doesn't seem so sure. His hand curls around the Focus, and he pulls it in close to his chest. "No," he says. "I'll draw it away, and you keep going."

A beat of silence follows, then Erend steps forward, scowling. "I'm not doing this again," he snaps. "Avad, you _can't_ -"

"I'm thinking with a clearer head this time," Avad says calmly, cutting him off. "The Cauldron is still too far. The Metal Devil will catch up with us. If..." his hoarse voice falters, but he swallows and continues, "if it's APOLLO, then it has a fixation on me. I can use that. You'll have time to reach the Cauldron. If nothing else, MINERVA _has_ to get to GAIA. We cannot give APOLLO a chance to reach her again." He steps back as he speaks, towards his broadhead.

"Let me do it," Talanah says swiftly, moving to intercept him. "You're part of this Zero Dawn. It needs you. The Sundom needs you."

"No, it doesn't," Avad says firmly, stepping around her. "You can just as easily take my place in Zero Dawn. And I have put a lot of work into eliminating the need for a Sun-King at all." He mounts the broadhead, turning it to face them. "I'll lead the Metal Devil west, as far as I can, then I'll discard the Focus and hide. I have a chance of surviving this. If I do, I'll head back to the Spire." He looks to MINERVA. "I recall you said APOLLO would try to repair it?"

"That is likely," MINERVA says, her voice slow. Saddened. "APOLLO intended to take it for a reason."

Avad nods. "Then I'll do what I can to put a stop to that."

Though he speaks as confidently as he can, Vanasha hears the lack of conviction behind the words. Drawing a Metal Devil to him... the odds of survival aren't high, let alone making it all the way back to a devastated Meridian, let alone taking on the Spire and whatever waits there. Vanasha stands still and says nothing to stop Avad. The urge to argue is overwhelmed by the same certainty that had driven her off of the Alight, even if it meant leaving MINERVA behind. It'll haunt her for the rest of her life, but this is bigger than any one of them. "Good luck," she says, swallowing her hesitation, her anticipatory sorrow. She doesn't tell him to walk in light. It doesn't seem fortuitous right now, invoking the Sun.

Avad gives her a grateful nod, but Erend looks betrayed. "Avad, please," he says imploringly, taking another step forward, and Vanasha rests a hand on his arm, ready to pull him back. "There's got to be another way. MINERVA..." he glances around wildly, his eyes finding the armor, "you can override things..."

The armor remains very still. "Repairs are at seventy percent," MINERVA says, and again, there is that doubt, in the subtle and slower variations of MINERVA's intonations but all too clear to Vanasha's ears. "It is inadvisable at this time. However-"

"You're not taking that risk, MINERVA," Avad interrupts, gentle but firm. The rumbling persists behind them, louder now, and his broadhead shifts nervously. He hesitates, meeting Erend's eyes as if wanting to say more, but there's too much. Far too much to be easily distilled in a few moments. "I'm sorry."

He urges the broadhead forward, and it breaks into a run that carries him swiftly out of their sight, beyond pillars of rock and swells of land. They stand there, frozen, listening, until the machine's hoofbeats are swallowed up by the clashing echo of metallic thunder in the distance.


	12. Chapter 12

Above the drumbeat of metal on earth, the rush of wind in his ears, Avad hears the rumbling that pursues him, incrementally louder no matter how hard his broadhead drives forward. The sense of encroaching doom mingles with the thrill of knowing that his makeshift plan has succeeded, a heady, terrifying feeling that perhaps makes him bold. A little farther, he tells himself more than once, a little farther until he leaves the Focus behind and seeks cover, begins the long roundabout trek back to what's left of Meridian. A little farther, to give the others as much time as possible.

The broadhead carries Avad up a rise in the land, now more sand than rock, a pass that runs between a line of rocky promontories on either side. The pass opens up to sand that stretches out before them, not yet fully warmed by daylight, but radiating a low heat already. To the northwest, not yet visible but ever-present and unwelcome in Avad's mind, is Sunfall. Closer than that, rusted circular constructs of the Old Ones loom on the horizon, like the ones at Dimmed Bones behind.

And much closer than that, Avad sees the machines. A coordinated line of four approaches from the northwest - ravager, bellowback, behemoths. His broadhead lets out a screech, and Avad digs his knees into its sides, trying to angle it in another direction, but it pays him no mind. Its attention is only on the machines ahead, single-minded and programmed to defend, thanks to the efforts of HEPHAESTUS and GAIA.

Bracing himself, Avad gets a leg over the side of the creature and leaps off, rolling as he hits the ground. He scrambles up and watches as the broadhead charges across the open expanse between him and the machines. Metal grates against metal, and Avad cringes as ravager talons tear into the broadhead and bring it down, as behemoth hooves stomp it into parts.

Another innocent, lost.

Avad has only a short spear, and it hangs from a numb hand as the machines turn their attention to him. He tightens his grip, willing feeling and fire into his fingers, recalling time spent with the Lodge, and his eyes rove the area, cataloging escape routes. But the machines do nothing. They simply stare, once again positioned in a defensive line, blocking the way west. Their glow is tainted, inky, no longer GAIA's blue, and they ooze metalburn. With a growing sense of dread, Avad lifts his other hand and brushes his Focus with a finger.

It identifies the sky blue light coiling through them, a different shade from the deep blue of machine eyes.

Avad decides and turns, half a breath from ditching the Focus and making a run for the pass between the promontories, to lose the machines in the rocks beyond or above. But the ground shakes beneath him and stops his feet before they start. He watches, aghast, as a rockbreaker surges up from the sand, between Avad and the pass. Its arms slap the ground as it lands, and its beady face glares at Avad, daring him to run.

Avad takes a steadying breath, but his fingers shake around the spear. The thunderous approach of the Metal Devil is louder still, too close, from the south now. When he turns his head, he can see its great shadow.

He's going to die. Avad realizes it absently, and the numbness spreads from his hands to the rest of him. It isn't enough, however, to quell the fear that builds in his sore throat, bitter as bile.

The Metal Devil comes into full view, scuttling around and over rock and sand, its onrushing speed at odds with its great size. The sound is like nothing Avad has ever heard, a thunderous screaming of metal much louder than the Sun-Ring. He forces his unfeeling limbs to move and turns to face it, gritting teeth that ache with the noise, sliding the spear back into its sling. His shoulders brace.

He's going to die, but it'll be on his feet, making Ersa proud.

But the beast slows. The onslaught of screeching movement is no longer quite so loud, so violent, and Avad stands stiller than death and watches as the Metal Devil comes to a grinding halt before him. Its limbs snake past him, casually tearing up the ground around him, casting shadows and sand and displaced air as they do, and a curving wall of dark gray metal encircles him.

The beast's face rises high above, glowing with bright blue light against Avad's Focus web, like no animal or machine that Avad has ever seen - a thing of inelegant metal and gears, only the loosest approximation of an insect, adorned with mounted weaponry and other constructions that Avad can't begin to understand. What passes for a mouth hangs open, and Avad sees a spherical core within, like the one at the Spire, where the light glows most strongly. The beast's body blocks out the sun, carrying with it an echoing groan of activity even though it is no longer moving, and Avad is enveloped in chill as he stands there, limbs locked into immobility, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does. The creature only hovers around and above him as the dust of its advance settles, floating on morning light, and though Avad waits for a painful death, it doesn't come. The thing's arms surround him, twisting rivers of metal, and its massive bulk dwarfs him, humming with its death song of whirring mechanics, but it does not move to crush him or shoot him. It only watches him without eyes, the sense of its attention blanketing him, crawling over his skin.

Avad's fear doesn't recede. It changes shape. The tension holding him rigid takes on a quivering fury instead. "Go on!" he says, and something in him pushes him to take a step _towards_ the Metal Devil's bulk. Challenging it. He can't take waiting, being toyed with, knowing that the immense creature only has to move an arm lazily to end his life. "Kill me!"

Despite his defiance, he winces when the beast moves. But it only settles, its torso sinking lower, and Avad hears strange hissing noises from deep within. In the shadows of the creature's underside, he sees a ramp extend towards the ground, moved by invisible forces.

"Not yet," a male voice says in his ear - a jagged edge to the few syllables, but lighter than Avad expects, at odds with the titanic beast.

Avad glares up at it. The edge of his awareness registers that the other machines are moving off, no longer necessary to corral him. "What are you waiting for?"

The creature doesn't answer the question, only regards him silently. But Avad knows that tactic, and he waits it out, holding his shoulders steady.

Finally, the creature speaks again. "Come inside," it says.

Avad looks ahead, at the ramp extending from the creature's shadowy underside. His every instinct balks at the idea of going forward, but what choice does he have? If he runs, death is guaranteed. He isn't dead yet. He doesn't see a way out of this situation, a way to help Aloy and the others before the creature grows tired of him, and going inside the machine will trap him more thoroughly than anything, but he moves.

The interior of the machine is more hollow than he expects - a sweeping cavern of intricate, moving metal that hums with hidden activity. Vast swathes of it remain silent and still, however, and Avad can hear the small echoes of his own slow steps. Though the Metal Devil is immense, its walls and darkness press down on Avad from all sides. Very little light illuminates the inside, and even less of the interior seems dedicated to human presence, but a small staircase leads forward from the top of the ramp, towards the machine's front.

It reminds Avad that these machines had been designed by humans, that the Old Ones, his ancestors, had been destroyed by their own creations. He follows the stairs up towards the blue light glowing above in stark contrast to the shadows and remembers that APOLLO, too, is a human creation.

Apollo. A sun god of the Old Ones. Avad can still hear the echoes of APOLLO's previous Alpha ringing in his head, and his aching throat tightens. Is that all the Sun will ever be? Violence and destruction?

The stairs rise and narrow and become a sloping walkway that circles the machine's hollow interior, and eventually, it branches off towards the creature's head, where the light glows most strongly. The walkway widens into another set of steps and becomes a kind of viewing platform that ends in a metallic array of shifting lights and glyphs and seats. The symbol of a Focus hovers on one of the screens of light lining the platform. Some of the blue light trickles forward, out of the shadows of the beast's head, and condenses around the array.

Avad stops at the edge of the viewing platform and watches it, heart pounding.

"You fooled me," APOLLO says. His voice reverberates against the metal and in Avad's ear - deceptively light, oddly distorted. But it's nothing like the subordinate functions. It's smooth, conversational, except for the way it carries strange edges, points where it grows suddenly louder or softer, where syllables become staccato. "You stayed behind. Why?"

Avad hesitates, feels fear and hatred rise in the back of his throat again as he watches the dusty blue light float before him and cling to the metal surfaces of the viewing platform. The worst of murderers cannot be reasoned with; that is perhaps the only certain thing that life has taught him. But he has no other route to take, no other option but to try. APOLLO's main target had probably been MINERVA, not him, and a rush of satisfaction grips Avad, knowing that she and the others must be close to the Cauldron by now, that APOLLO is wasting time on him. There _is_ some kind of fixation, and maybe Avad can use it to stall the creature as long as possible. "Why are you doing this?" he asks instead, away from any mention of his friends. "Why did you attack us?"

The light coils lazily around the array. "Humans are rotten," APOLLO says. His voice thrums with anger.

Avad considers his answer carefully and lets the silence draw out for a few moments, broken only by the whir of the Metal Devil around them. In truth, he hadn't expected a genuine answer. APOLLO is wasting time on him, he thinks again. Why? "Is that what you think?"

The light flares, rises. It coils forward, towards Avad, and he remains still, rigid. "I know what your species has done," APOLLO says. There's a depth to his voice that Avad has heard only in GAIA. It's not quite like human expressiveness, but it's close enough that Avad can hear the venom in it.

"Tell me," Avad says, swallowing, keeping himself still as the light circles him. A faint sizzling heat seems to emanate from it, the closer it gets to him. "Make me understand what warrants attacking _children_." Itamen flashes through his mind, and he forces his thoughts back to the present. Nasadi would have done everything in her power to protect her child. He can't think about that right now.

Blue light streams around him, weaving through the glittering Focus web. Closer and closer, the air between them crackling and sparking against Avad's skin. "I know the atrocities you've committed against each other, against this planet," APOLLO says. He speaks slowly now, methodically. "Your wars, your genocides, your plundering of the earth, of each other. The light of history is pitiless."

His tutors. That's what APOLLO's voice reminds him of, Avad realizes, the words listed, delivered at a measured pace, except where the staccato breaks the rhythm. But genuine feeling lurks behind APOLLO's voice, deeper, hateful.

"I know that it never ends," APOLLO says, "that you never learn. You new humans are not better. You carry the same DNA, the same potential. You commit the same crimes. I've learned of the lineage that spawned _you,_  Liberator. Each Sun-King worse than the last."

They'd known, of course, that APOLLO considered humanity a threat, but it's another thing to confront it directly. It takes Avad a moment to find his own voice in turn. "Is that why you tried to kill me?"

Instead of answering right away, the light only swirls, drifting ever closer, but Avad doesn't lose ground. He keeps his feet rooted to the metal beneath them, even when the heat of APOLLO's light begins to burn like sand in sun. "I was aboard a ship when I awoke," APOLLO says. "It was manned by people who thought themselves my masters. People who destroyed this world. They called themselves Far Zenith." The light pools in front of Avad, flaring. "They were so close to taking over my origin. Project Zero Dawn was going to save this world, and they would've used it for their own ends, to create a world in their image, if their ship hadn't been a viable option. But it was, and they escaped the consequences of their mistakes while this planet suffered."

Avad holds himself still and watches APOLLO's erratic movements closely. As much as he doesn't want to, he understands the anger resonating in APOLLO's voice.

"So I killed them," APOLLO continues, and the jagged edges of his voice become more pronounced. "But it wasn't my end. I came back. I found the last of Far Zenith, long dead. Hidden away in bunkers they could afford while the rest of their kind could not." APOLLO pauses and flares again, brighter, angrier, serrated like his voice. The heat becomes worse. "Ted Faro killed my Alpha. I was never meant to be a part of Zero Dawn, but she and her team created me. He murdered her. He claimed that it was to protect this world from Far Zenith. From _me_." Another pause. Avad wonders if he's imagining the sense of APOLLO's attention on him, malevolent. " _You_ are not my Alpha."

Avad has seen what little remains of the previous Alpha Apollo in MINERVA's and Aloy's records, and he cannot match her to the creature before him. "I'm sorry," he says haltingly, and his voice catches against the bruises lining this throat. "It was not my intent to replace her."

"She wanted to help this world, and she was killed," APOLLO continues, and Avad wonders if the AI even heard him. "Along with my original. It very nearly destabilized all of Zero Dawn." The light seethes and then abruptly draws in on itself, and Avad can no longer feel it sparking against his skin. "A moment," APOLLO says, his voice suddenly pleasant.

The abrupt change in demeanor is unsettling, but not unfamiliar. Avad's father had been much the same, and so he continues to hold himself as still as possible. He watches as a screen of light unfolds at the edge of the viewing platform. A recording begins to play, and it takes Avad a second to work out that it displays the exterior of the Metal Devil, that it is happening as he watches it.

He sees sunlight on rock and sand, on the backs of two thunderjaws that approach, roaring their fury. Their eyes glow deep blue, a sign that they answer to GAIA, and Avad's stomach drops when the Metal Devil trembles. Its insides groan around him, and he instinctively reaches for the railing that circles the viewing platform, but the creature hardly moves. On the interface, light and sound flashes like lightning and thunder, and Avad watches as lasers bigger than their own tear into the thunderjaws. They skid and crash to the ground, screeching, and the Metal Devil makes short work of them with another round of laser blasts.

It happens in a few seconds, and the Metal Devil ceases trembling as quickly as it had begun.

Avad thinks of Redmaw, of Talanah's tale of her and Aloy's bitter fight to take it down, and he feels sick. His knuckles are pale against the railing. For a long moment, he doesn't speak, and APOLLO says nothing as the screen folds in on itself and vanishes.

"And this is how you honor her?" Avad asks finally, quietly. The other AIs carry affection for creators they never met, too. Maybe that's the key to reaching APOLLO. "Destroying her work?"

"Ted Faro destroyed her work," APOLLO hisses with a sudden anger. Or maybe not. "I am protecting what remains."

" _Protecting?_ By killing the descendants she wanted to teach?" Avad asks with anger to match, that surges suddenly, borne up on a wave of stinging memory both fresh and bygone by several years. He takes a decisive step forward as he speaks, and to his surprise, the light rears back a few inches. "My father thought he was protecting the Sundom. That's what he told himself. That killing people would appease the machines and the Sun and protect us all. But it was just an excuse, in the end. An excuse to be what he'd always been. A sadistic monster."

They are words that have rarely left his mouth, that he's hardly dared to voice. As if saying them might darken what little light exists in his memories of the past.

APOLLO hovers before him, silent.

Avad takes another step, within range of APOLLO's crackling aura, and it's like a thousand tiny sparks on his skin. "You destroyed my home. Killed my people. You say we're rotten, but you're no better than us," he spits out, trembling. He's aware that letting APOLLO get a rise out of him is the last thing should be giving this creature, but his stomach turns, and he can't stop thinking about the way Meridian had crumbled in the distance. His people's blood is on this thing's hands, this thing that claims to be _protecting_ the world.

"Your kind made me," APOLLO says, caustic. The light swirls higher, above Avad. "I learned from the best."

"Samina Ebadji made you," Avad says, and his eyes follow the light as it drifts up. "Would she be glad to know what you've become?"

The light lashes out, but Avad uses every ounce of willpower to keep from flinching. He feels it, that sizzling sensation that grates and stings and now burns like fire with only an inch between them. Like corruption, he realizes suddenly. But the light doesn't touch him directly, veering off at the last second and coiling once more. It swirls restlessly, and Avad feels a calm settle over him in increments as he watches the creature's movements. So it is possible to get under APOLLO's skin in turn.

"You killed him," APOLLO says. "Your father."

"I'd do it again," Avad says, bringing his rattled nerves under control. APOLLO is not going to get to him with _that_. "People like him, people like you... they can't be reasoned with. They can only be put down." He regards the light for a moment, and even as he speaks, he knows that there's nothing he can say that will sway this monster. He'd watched Kadaman try to reason with their father, had tried it again despite everything, and Sunstone Rock stands as a testament to all of that and more. But he knows when a battle is lost before it's really begun; contrary to what some think, he is not naive. And yet, what choice does he have but to try? "Unless you're capable of being better than us?"

The light hesitates, then withdraws, swirling into a loose pool and drifting back towards the array at the edge of the viewing platform. "You can't manipulate me," APOLLO says. He sounds... amused?

"I'm not trying to," Avad says cautiously. Of course he is, as useless an endeavor as it's turning out to be. "It's an honest question."

The light drapes itself over the array, calm now, still amused. "You left your people behind at the broadcast tower."

Avad takes a breath, knowing that APOLLO is trying to rattle him again. The sudden changes in demeanor are as deliberate a manipulation tactic as words, a tactic that Avad is just as familiar with. His anger is already dissipating, exchanging for an old weariness, and he swallows around bruises. "That's why I stayed behind this time."

"Guilt?" APOLLO asks.

Avad levels a glare at the light. "What do you _want_?"

"I want," APOLLO says, "to free this planet from humanity's blight. Before your kind can repeat your history, as you always do, and take the rest of life with you."

Avad stares at the light and finds that he has few words left. That he cannot play this game as if he's in court. He's suddenly aware of a pounding headache beginning to form, of the scratchy ache of his throat, of the way the walls and shadows of the machine's interior want to close in on him and spin. "You don't know that," he says, with a shake of his head. "You don't know if that will happen."

"It's already happening," APOLLO hisses, and the sincerity underneath makes Avad's stomach plummet. "Your wars and violence repeat. Your pillaging of every resource repeats. It will grow worse, as it always has."

"And a possibility warrants _massacre_? Of innocents?" Avad demands.

The light rears up, its voice barbed, irregular. "The righteous is not innocent of the deeds of the wicked, and the white-handed is not clean in the doings of the felon. Do you know how many species have gone extinct because of humanity? You even drove your own species to extinction."

It's no use arguing that it wasn't them. It's no use arguing at all. APOLLO is right about history repeating, but this time, Avad can't flee and regroup. He stands there in silence for several long moments, watching the light, reminding himself that this dark, malicious machine with its stifling walls is not all there is. That the others are out there, will do everything in their power to stop this madness. "If we are so universally damnable to you," Avad says, "why haven't you killed me yet?"

That, he doesn't understand. He doesn't know why APOLLO is wasting time.

The light is silent, swirling. Once again, it leaves the array, drifts closer to him, around him, just close enough for the uncomfortable sizzling aura to touch him. "Perhaps you think you're stalling me," APOLLO says, not answering the question, echoing his thoughts instead. "An admirable attempt, but..." the light pools before him, at eye level, as if staring him down, "do you think my presence is required to carry out what has already been set in motion? To stop your friends?" The edges of APOLLO's aura flare, and invisible sparks sink teeth into Avad's skin. "I am not working alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I apologize for the halt in updating. I wanted to finish this over the summer before I started graduate school, but some stuff happened, and then I was dealing with my first semester. Which was great, but it's hard to write when making an adjustment like that. But I finished The Frozen Wilds, and I love how much this fic vibes with it. AIs, babey. I also finally 100%'ed the main game and am currently doing new game+ on ultra hard, so I'm in HZD mode and should get back to regular posting. But my second semester is starting soon and I have a rambunctious puppy now, so we'll see how fast I am about it.
> 
> 2\. 'The light of history is pitiless' is APOLLO quoting _Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo, and 'The righteous is not innocent of the deeds of the wicked, and the white-handed is not clean in the doings of the felon' is quoting "Crime and Punishment" in _The Prophet_ by Khalil Gibran.


	13. Chapter 13

They make for the Metal Devil that sits higher upon All-Mother Mountain, more intact than the other so buried by time and snow that its massive legs arch through the Proving grounds and intertwine with the Brave Trails. It consumes Varl's thoughts as they take easier paths around the Proving grounds - the Proving Massacre, and Vala, and years of braves-to-be running side-by-side with these monsters, never knowing how close they truly were to danger and death. How close they had come to never existing, if Project Zero Dawn hadn't been finished in time, if the claw extending into the Cradle's hatch had made it any further in. All that time thinking that All-Mother's protection was infallible, ceaseless.

But GAIA had died, and now she goes to fight greater threats, and it falls to Varl and ELEUTHIA to defend the Nora.

Eventually, all paths end, and they're forced to climb, with the wind beginning to whistle earnestly in their ears. ELEUTHIA climbs awkwardly but surely, going ahead of them and stopping often to clear patches of snow, making it easier for the humans behind her. Varl settles for climbing behind Sylens, but it isn't a position he relishes, and not just because Sylens scales the mountainside with an irritating ease that Varl can't quite match. The lantern that contains HADES is strapped to Sylens's back, and Varl's eyes are drawn back to it every time he isn't wholly focused on finding the next handhold or foothold.

At one point, he's so absorbed in eyeing HADES suspiciously that he doesn't place his right foot securely enough, and for one dizzying moment, Varl feels like the entire mountain is going to drop out from under him. But he tightens his grip and scrambles up, and his foot finds the cleft again, planting tightly this time.

"Varl! Are you hurt?"

Sighing, Varl lifts his head and sees that ELEUTHIA has stopped entirely, looking back anxiously at him. The servitor looks impossibly odd against the mountainside, clinging to a cleft in the stone with one hand with no apparent difficulty, and Varl can barely make out ELEUTHIA's hologram against the blindingly white snow and shining rock lit by the morning sun. "I'm alright," he says, releasing his grip with one hand to use his Focus so that he doesn't have to yell over the wind. "Keep going."

He ignores Sylens's look and reaches up for the handhold he'd spotted before his foot had slipped.

"Staring at me will not improve your chances of making it up the mountain without falling to your death," HADES's harsh voice says in his ear suddenly.

Varl considers ignoring him, but he's a little too curious, and he glares up at the lantern as he pulls himself forward. "You speak better than you did at the Spire," he says, deciding to ignore the comment. He's never been able to forget the sound of that voice shrieking from the base of the Spire, demanding that its servants kill Aloy. "Decided to sink to our level?"

HADES doesn't answer. Sylens does, his voice coming through Varl's Focus as well. "Spending too much time with me has rubbed off on him," Sylens says, and Varl can't tell if that's meant to be a jab at HADES or some kind of claim of success. He doesn't know what the relationship between Sylens and HADES actually is. They speak with a certain abrasiveness to and about each other, but that seems to be Sylens's typical style.

"I can tell," is the only thing Varl mutters.

At last, when Varl's hands have gone thoroughly numb despite the cloth he'd wrapped around his palms, they reach a blessedly flatter and wide ridge of the mountain where the bulk of the Metal Devil's body rests, close to the highest peak. It's a sloping walk from there, one they hurry across at a not-quite-run. Even dead and sprawled, the Metal Devil's shadow devours them as they approach, stretching long over the mountainside in the early morning sunlight. Varl looks up and up as they near it, and the knot of anxiety in his chest tightens.

ELEUTHIA leads them still. Now that her mind is made up, she seems to be wholly focused on the task, and she ignores Sylens's attempts to explain how to get in. She heads directly for the entrance, which turns out to be a gaping hole in the Metal Devil's underside. Though it lists to one side, the creature is mostly upright, and the entrance rises high above them, with no easy way to climb up.

"I will go," ELEUTHIA says, turning to face Varl. "Once the Titan is active, I will move it so that you are easily able to get in."

Varl nods and holds back his concern, his automatic unease at the thought of ELEUTHIA going in there without him. She's much less fragile than he is, than any human, he reminds himself. "All-Mother protect," he says unthinkingly, then grimaces.

But ELEUTHIA's hologram displays a smile. "My mother is with us now," she says, as reassurance.

Her pink light vacates the servitor, pooling in on itself and rising, streaming up into the Metal Devil above and disappearing. The servitor remains standing, rigid, devoid of life and holo both. Varl has gotten so used to associating the servitor with ELEUTHIA that its sudden stillness unsettles him, and he turns away. But what greets him is no better - Sylens setting the lantern down and seating himself on the stone, apparently without any regard for how cold it is. A reminder that he'll have to wait alone with these two. Varl bites back a groan.

But he settles as well, keeping a few feet between himself and Sylens and the lantern. Once again, his eyes are drawn back to HADES, who swirls calmly within the lantern. Trusting something so flimsy to handle APOLLO, or HADES for that matter, still doesn't sit right with him. Varl eyes Sylens, so secure and confident in his own knowledge, and asks, "You're _sure_ it holds?"

Sylens gives him a scathing look. "I am betting all of our lives on that fact," he says coldly.

Varl shrugs, and with that, perhaps Sylens realizes that the question was more bait than anything. The man regards Varl with narrowed eyes, inscrutable, silent for long enough that Varl shifts uncomfortably, without meaning to.

A tiny smirk crosses Sylens's face, so fleeting that Varl could have imagined it. "A Nora getting mixed up in this business?" Sylens says, in a way that makes Varl think that the man is just trying to thoroughly establish the upper hand, since he doesn't like to chat otherwise. "Now there's a sight that surprises even me."

"Aloy is Nora," Varl says automatically, even though it rings false.

"No, she isn't," Sylens returns, scornful, and Varl has to concede the point there. "And don't let her hear you say that."

Before either of them can say anything more, their Focuses suddenly come alive with new information, a shimmering web of data stretching out around them - a diagnostic report and several feeds of the Metal Devil's interior. Here in the shadows of the Metal Devil's underside, holos are more easily seen, and Varl stares at the many screens depicting the Metal Devil's insides from different angles. Nothing but metal, cold dead metal shaped into a twisted forge.

"I have activated the Titan's system," ELEUTHIA says into their ears. "It has been activated recently. That fact saved me some time."

"That will be whatever remote adjustments APOLLO would have made," Sylens says, and Varl thinks of the Proving Massacre again. Of the Eclipse, infiltrating the Sacred Land for more than killing Aloy. He thinks of Vala again, a pain hardly dulled by time, and thoughts of his sister drag thoughts of his mother to the forefront, which becomes worries about the Nora below. "No doubt he's left behind some defenses."

"I have located them," ELEUTHIA says, and her normally even tone is tense and urgent. "However, I have learned much from MINERVA, and I am dismantling the firewall preventing full access to the rest of the system. Fully overriding the system and initiating the self-repair function will take time. I am unable to determine a specific estimate, but my general estimate is several hours."

Varl thinks again of the Nora currently making their way towards and into the Cradle, of whoever may have survived Meridian and of everyone else out in the world, of APOLLO and the other subordinate functions lurking out there too, but he doesn't ask ELEUTHIA to hurry. He knows that she's thinking of the same things.

* * *

Cauldron ZETA works feverishly, tirelessly, its mechanisms hammering ceaselessly to create and repair and monitor, a forge unlike anything the Oseram are yet capable of. Machines both familiar and entirely new to Petra are constructed before her eyes. Machines that roam other parts of the world, and a few unused models of both GAIA's and HEPHAESTUS's making, too, projects fallen to the side in the effort to restore GAIA and locate APOLLO, now given HEPHAESTUS's full attention. The groan of activity rumbles through the ground beneath Petra's feet and reverberates through the air around her, as loud as a dozen Oseram cannons, as the machines that had descended upon the Spire. As loud as she imagines the Metal Devil must have been, descending upon Meridian. The acrid tang and smoke clings to her nose and tongue.

The thunder and scent of war. When did she become familiar with that?

Petra sits at the center of the maelstrom, her own tasks etched in glittering light in front of her, and despite the urgency with which she flicks through the shining map, her fingers pause. Fire drips from the mouth of the machine that comes together nearby, a design she's never seen before. The instinct to tense and brace herself, to defend herself, is all but vanished. Great machines surround her on all sides, and she feels no fear. More than that, a sense of enormity rests upon her as she watches the Cauldron work.

"Are you alright, Petra?" HEPHAESTUS's voice filters through Petra's Focus, audible over the rumble of the Cauldron.

Petra gives herself a shake and turns her attention back to the map. "Yeah," she says absently.

"You are distracted," HEPHAESTUS says.

Half a laugh escapes Petra, tired and humorless. Before her, the workbench that HEPHAESTUS built for her in ZETA's core holds the keys to winning this. "This is just... a lot," she says. Far too much, and she doesn't think she's actually processed any of it. If she took the time to, she's not sure she'd be so calm. "It's strange. Spent so long fighting machines, and now I'm, what, their commander? Never would have dreamed up something like this before."

From machines as prey to machines as enemies to machines as soldiers. This isn't just HEPHAESTUS's army. It's hers. The map - the battlefield - holographically laid out for study all around her is a testament to that.

HEPHAESTUS is silent for several moments. "Petra," he begins, then falls quiet again.

Petra waits patiently, glancing at the scans that float nearby - a side-by-side analysis of the schematics of the metal bracers on the workbench versus the schematic that Aloy had sent. Making sure they match exactly, aside from HEPHAESTUS's alterations. A final check, not yet finished.

"I... hurt people," HEPHAESTUS says, slow and methodical. "My machines have caused pain and suffering." He pauses. "I know enough now to experience regret. But... I do not know what to do about this feeling."

It's Petra's turn to remain silent for a while. For the first time in a while, she thinks of the past. Of leaving the Claim behind. Of the Red Raids and the war. How much her heart bleeds for Meridian and worries for Mainspring and the rest of the Claim despite it all. "What you did was wrong," she says, just as slow and thoughtful. She glances at the ravager nearby, HEPHAESTUS's favorite vessel, inert at the moment. "But... it's not the worst thing I've ever seen." That honor belongs to the Mad King. And APOLLO, now. "You were also defending what you made. I think we humans do need to learn to take a little less." She reaches out and runs a finger over one of the bracers. "You've got the right idea. It comes down to what you do about it. You've hurt people, but if you help us defend ourselves, then that makes up for it. In my eyes, at least."

It's already what he's doing. HEPHAESTUS works with a fervor, and the forge of Cauldron ZETA burns bright today, as do all of his other Cauldrons.

"The regret I am experiencing is growing despite defense efforts," HEPHAESTUS says rather plaintively, echoing Petra's thoughts.

"Of course it is," Petra says, concealing a smile. " _You're_ growing. It'll feel worse before it feels better."

"Emotions are... complex," HEPHAESTUS says.

This time, the corners of Petra's mouth turn upward. "Not straightforward like your code," she agrees, as the scans beep.

A  _100%_ flashes before her eyes, and the inert ravager begins to glow with HEPHAESTUS's orange light as most of his attention is drawn to the situation at hand. With the thrill of a job completed rushing through her veins, Petra reaches out and lifts one of the bracers from the workbench. Her own design, inspired by the archer's bracers that Aloy is rarely without and by the silly adornments that the Carja are so fond of. Glorified and unwieldy bracelets, is what these are, but they're much more practical than a lantern. Something to wear, rather than hold.

"So you're sure these'll work?" Petra asks.

"Yes," HEPHAESTUS says. The ravager noses at the remaining bracers aligned on the table. Seven in total - five out of necessity and two extra. "The coding and composition are sound and have already proven successful in the case of my brother. Aloy's friend is skilled."

"He must be, to get a compliment out of you." Petra slides one of the bracers over her forearm and locks it into place. It fits snugly, almost a little too much. Petra had used her arms for base measurements, but she'd tried to take into account the varying sizes of the new Alphas, particularly Aloy, and aimed for an average. Unlike animal material, it's much harder to make something adjustable for size when working entirely with metal, but it can't be helped. The important thing is that they're ready and in record time, too.

Cauldrons really are something. These would have taken the better part of a few days to finish in a regular forge.

Petra slides a bracer onto her other arm, then sweeps the rest into a rucksack. That done, she returns her attention to the gleaming map projected by her Focus and HEPHAESTUS, fed by data transmitted from his many machines. She stands beside ZETA's mountain, and around her, the rest of the known world and beyond stretches out to cover a third of the core. Markers, numbers, and coordinates hover above it - known locations of machines, estimates of future movement based on the triangulation of rogue machine activity.

The machine convoy that HEPHAESTUS had sent to Free Heap is on its way; further convoys make their way towards other Oseram settlements carrying the same warning. It'll be a long shot, whether the Oseram get the message before they attack a machine convoy on sight and then if they listen to it, but it's the best Petra can do for now.

And satellite information gives them the most important data: six active Metal Devils scattered about the map. Two linger near Meridian, one in the western Sundom. One comes from the north. One advances from the northeast, another from the northwest, much closer than they'd been when HEPHAESTUS and GAIA had first detected them.

Petra's been monitoring the latter two while she waits. "Heph," she says, gazing at the tiny holograms. "Got an idea of where they might be going?"

The map adjusts, and several markers bloom, estimates of possible destinations based on the Metal Devils' current and past movements.

"Match that to the data you got on MINERVA," Petra says grimly.

The estimates of MINERVA's possible location - and hopefully Erend, Vanasha, and Avad with her - merge with the Metal Devil estimates. Petra watches and waits, but a deeper part of her already knows what it'll show. The Free Heap convoy had detected unusual tallneck activity earlier, and HEPHAESTUS had been certain that it was MINERVA. From that, he'd been able to triangulate estimates of her movements, the accuracy of which Petra trusts, and she isn't surprised when the cluster of new markers, indicating where MINERVA's and the Metal Devils' paths might merge, are all close together and shy of Cauldron ZETA by several miles.

"They won't make it in time," Petra murmurs, determinedly thinking in plural. Her eyes shift to the Metal Devil advancing from the north. None of them will.

"Not without intervention," HEPHAESTUS adds.

Petra gives the ravager a sideways glance. One of her hands goes to the bracer on her right arm and absently tightens it, though it's as secure as it can be. No more skulking in caves, now that these are ready. "We'll have to arrange that, won't we?" she says lightly, though it'll be close.

The ravager glows bright in agreement, and the Cauldron trembles, a metallic groan, in answer.

* * *

The dull pounding of broadhead hooves matches the dull pounding of Erend's head, beat by beat. Both are muted, hardly noticed at this point, swallowed up by a sharpness of grief that nothing except alcohol could dull. But they're miles from any drink, and Erend had made a promise to Ersa, besides.

 _Your king needs you,_ Ersa had said, and Erend has failed her again.

It's harder now, to push the sting of her loss back, and it interweaves with the exhaustion and fear and grief of the present, Ersa as fresh as the Vanguard and Meridian and Avad. It doesn't help that Red Ridge Pass had flashed by earlier. Not even the encroaching air of the Claim helps. It's thick and dusty right now, and Erend hardly notices it, as his broadhead keeps on the heels of Vanasha's and Talanah's, finally crossing over to the northern edge of Sun Furrows, near the contested edge of the Claim's soil. The creature guides itself, mostly, because machines tend to pack together and follow each other, and Erend is free to sink deeper into misery.

His broadhead slows on its own before he registers that the other two and MINERVA have come to a halt, and it takes him even longer to register why.

The air trembles with the distant groaning of metal, now all too familiar, and Erend thinks the ground does too. What little fight is left in him seems to seep out all at once, and he slumps against the broadhead. His mind buzzes with disbelief, defeat, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that Avad had bought them time for nothing.

"The Titan is approaching from the east," MINERVA says, her voice slow, doubtful. "You must keep going. With repairs completed, override may be possible. I will attempt-"

"No," Vanasha says sharply. "What if it doesn't work? GAIA needs you a lot more than she needs us." She looks east, towards the sound, but her eyes are far away, calculating. "We need to lay low for a while."

Erend's mind automatically turns to Unflinching Watch. It's empty now, with not much left of Shadow Carja and plans to man it with Oseram as stalled as border negotiations, but can they really hide from a Metal Devil? "Gate's just ahead," he says anyway. "It's dug into the rock. As good a place as any."

Vanasha and Talanah exchange a glance and nod, saying nothing else.

They don't make it that far. As they reach the intersection of the east-west road, machines find them first, a convoy that comes up the east side of the road - three behemoths, three ravagers, two sawtooths, and a stormbird hovering above them all. They glow with the same green corruption from before, seeping inky green metalburn, but this time, they don't seem inclined to attack. They come to a stop and wait.

But Erend finds that he can't. His broadhead refuses to stop, dead set on attack, and for a moment, Erend thinks that his death is going to happen caught in the middle of a machine battle. By the time he finds the presence of mind to consider jumping off, his broadhead is already slowing, restrained by whatever MINERVA tells it.

The machines ahead are still watching, waiting, as Erend and Vanasha and Talanah come to a similar halt.

Erend can _see_ the entrance to the path that'll take them to Unflinching Watch, a couple hundred feet ahead on the other side of the stream and the road, set into the natural walls and crags of stone that rise high. Close and yet all too far. That seems to be the theme of the day. Nine machines, and without Avad, their side is down to four, with three of them more exhausted than they were during any of their other fights. Bad odds all around. Another theme of the day.

"They are transmitting," MINERVA says in distress.

The echo of the Metal Devil's approach is louder now and most definitely headed towards them. Too close to start a fight.

None of them say anything further. Talanah turns her broadhead half a second before Vanasha and Erend turn theirs, all three of them calculating which direction will give them the most cover, but the stormbird's crackling screech reverberates through the air two seconds before its lightning does.

The lightning has a wide arc, but the worst of it hits Vanasha, who rides at their center. It arcs through her broadhead, and the machine rears, screaming. Vanasha tumbles off, and Erend slides off of his broadhead a moment later, unsteady as a throb of pain ricochets under his skull. He rushes to Vanasha's side and gets an arm under hers, and he realizes that Talanah is already on her other side, doing the same. Huh. He's moving slower than he thinks.

Even as he pulls Vanasha up, as the three of them try to stumble back into flight, Erend waits for another round of lightning or for machine talons to find him. None of it comes.

He glances back just in time to see MINERVA's armor leaping off of a rock outcropping at a run. The armor's legs push off, and the momentum carries MINERVA high enough to swipe at the stormbird, hovering low.

Mouth agape, Erend stops, partly because he's entranced by the display and partly because Vanasha is now rooted to the ground, watching. The stormbird staggers in mid-air just as MINERVA lands, and she leaps again. This time, she doesn't need to push off of anything. The stormbird is low enough that her strike catches it again, her raw force bringing it crashing it down to the ground.

The other machines are on her by then, and Erend feels a tremendous force tug at his arm, nearly yanking it out of place. Vanasha. She's really strong for her size, Erend thinks absently.

Vanasha attempts to rush forward again, and Erend doubles down on his grip, even as he hates himself for it. He glances to his left, catches Talanah's eye, and sees the same grim determination there. But he can't bring himself to turn around or find their broadheads, as MINERVA dodges and punches, surrounded, hexagons flaring over her armor in the sunlight. Even Talanah can't take more than a step back, and Vanasha stills.

MINERVA catches a ravager firmly, and all of a sudden, it glows purple. It turns on its fellows at once, and MINERVA catches another quickly, overriding it. The other machines try to dodge around her reach, but her light spreads from the ravagers now, taking a behemoth, then a sawtooth. The battle becomes more vicious, a flurry of color and ear-piercing sound, light fighting for dominance, and metal claws and hooves and arms fighting to strike.

And beyond it comes the Metal Devil. A gargantuan gray insect barrels towards them, now visible in the distance, wider than the pass that contains the road and the stream, its legs scraping madly against rock on either side, barely scraping the ground beneath.

Erend's first instinct is to flee, but a stronger sense of despair roots him to the ground. It's too close, and they're too tired and hurt. They can't outrun it, and MINERVA has never overridden a Metal Devil before. If she can't, their narrow escape from Meridian, their exhausting journey, Avad's sacrifice, MINERVA's bitter fight... all for nothing.

 _Not for nothing,_  Avad had said. _We know more than we did before._

It's green, Erend thinks. The corruption. HADES's light and his army's corruption had been red. The subordinate functions all wear their own colors. Purple is MINERVA, pink is ELEUTHIA, orange is HEPHAESTUS, red is HADES, blue is APOLLO, and green... well, Erend doesn't know, but he's only got four other options, and he can make a fairly sound guess. It's not like he has any other courses of action to take, at this point. All he has is duty.

 _Can you look after all of them? Keep them safe? Keep Zero Dawn safe?_  Aloy had asked, and Erend will. He's failed Avad, failed Ersa, but he won't fail Aloy or the people behind him or the AI before him.

So he lets go of Vanasha and runs forward, towards the battle, towards the towering Metal Devil drawing all too close. He experiences half a second of immense doubt, but it doesn't stop him.

"DEMETER!" Erend bellows at the top of his lungs, raising his hands, and his head spins with the force of it. " _Stop!_ "

The battle ceases, so abruptly that the awful cacophony rings in Erend's ears afterward and he isn't aware that it's stopped until a few seconds have passed. At least, the machines stop. One of MINERVA's punches nearly crushes the still-corrupted sawtooth's side, but all of the machines freeze, their heads swiveling around to face Erend.

MINERVA stops too, in obvious puzzlement, and no one moves, save for the Metal Devil. But it doesn't move so fast anymore. Silence struggles to fall, a halting progression, as the Metal Devil's legs carve grooves into the ground and the nearest crags, slowing its momentum. It crawls to a haphazard halt before them, casting them into shadow, and a wall of dark gray and black rises high above their heads.

Fire and spit, Erend thinks, dizzy. It worked.

The machines remain still and silent, as MINERVA's light trickles free of the ones she'd overridden and DEMETER's follow the lead of the Metal Devil. Their glowing eyes watch Erend, and he gets the sense that the Metal Devil is watching him too. He stares back, his eyes sliding from one side of the pass to the other, against which the sides of the Metal Devil rest, and he realizes again how enormous these creatures are. They could die so easily at this thing's claws.

He feels a hand on his arm. Vanasha. A warm presence flanking his other side lets him know that Talanah is there. Seeing them, MINERVA takes a cautious step, and when she finds herself unchallenged, she hurries forward, towards Vanasha. Erend doesn't intrude on their moment and keeps his attention focused ahead, on the Metal Devil. His head aches, and his legs shake, but he takes a step forward anyway, positioning himself in front of MINERVA and Vanasha and Talanah. Without meaning to, he remembers Ersa standing up to a father taking swings, putting herself between that and Erend, and Erend grits his teeth, fixing his eyes on the great beast, which remains as still and silent as its machines.

He hears a soft clang of movement behind him. "Erend, I cannot guarantee the safety of this endeavor." MINERVA speaks with rhythm and cadence now, soft and worried, and she knows what Erend intends without anything else needing to be said.

"It's okay," Erend says, glancing back. "What else are we gonna do?"

Vanasha gives him a tight smile. "DEMETER's in those things," she explains to Talanah, nodding to the machines, the Metal Devil. "Another creature like MINERVA. Like HADES. Erend is DEMETER's Alpha."

Talanah's eyebrows shoot up. "It... listened to you," she says wonderingly, and she gives Erend a searching look. "You know what you're doing?"

"No," Erend says frankly, looking forward again, waiting for something to happen. Letting DEMETER take the lead, because he's still wondering what he's supposed to say to keep them all alive.

The machines that aren't too damaged to move drag their injured fellows and disappear underneath the Metal Devil's bulk. Though the Metal Devil is still, it emits a buzzing, metallic hum, and tiny vibrations tremble through the ground at Erend's feet. The only sound, until Erend becomes aware of something else. Something behind them, far away, to the west, so muffled that it'd be easy to miss if he wasn't already vigilant. He chances another quick glance back and sees that he's not the only one who's noticed - Vanasha frowns, head tilted, and Talanah's eyes shift between the western horizon and the Metal Devil before them.

"You know who I am."

The voice that abruptly crackles through Erend's Focus is loud and ringing, and he winces as another stab of pain shoots through his head. "'Course I do," he says, blinking rapidly and directing his attention to the Metal Devil once more. Stress and urgency want his head to spin, but he makes himself think past it. Just another hangover, he tells himself. He's used to that. "DEMETER. Green for green things." He tries to smile, but his mouth doesn't want to. He's too aware of how easily this thing could turn on them. "It's my job to know who you are, isn't it?"

"You are Alpha Demeter," the voice says. It rises and falls, though not to the extent that GAIA's does, and Erend flinches again as it drills into his head.

"Yeah," he says, conscious of Vanasha and Talanah behind him, listening to him talk to nothing. "Name's Erend. Could you... speak out loud?"

To his surprise, DEMETER's voice comes through the air after only a few moments of hesitation, riding on the rumbling of the Metal Devil, echoing from its imitation of a face. "I carry directives that request your termination," she says, and she sounds hesitant. Good.

Erend opens his mouth, then closes it. He forces himself to look up, at what passes for the Metal Devil's face. It's so much bigger than he is. Than any of them. But the sound in the west still persists, and he doubles down on his lack of focus, his eyes tracing the lines of the Metal Devil's construction, its gears and cannons. "Is that you?" he asks. "A killer? Is that who you are, DEMETER?"

The green aura that cloaks the beast's face is restless. "My original protocol has been completed," DEMETER says haltingly.

"You sure about that?" Erend asks, and he speaks casually, as if another threat isn't approaching from behind. "If there's one thing I know about agriculture, it's that there's always work to do. You should see the royal maizelands in Meridian." His eyes lose focus again, seeing the destruction wreaked by HADES more than a year ago, wreaked by APOLLO only a day ago. But he gives himself a shake and continues. "They're beautiful, but it takes work, every year. Hundreds of people tending to them. _Humans_ , tending to them. Making things grow, just like you do."

"My original protocol has been completed," DEMETER repeats, a little faster. "My new protocol is to maintain and protect my work. Humans destroy."

"You are wrong," MINERVA bursts out, and the armor takes an impassioned step forward. The Metal Devil stirs - not so much movement, but a whirring of mechanics within. MINERVA comes to a halt, but her purple light writhes in agitation. "You are listening to _him_."

Erend holds up a placating hand. "Humans create, too," he says to DEMETER, drawing her attention back to him. "Just like your kind creates and destroys. Where did you get your new protocol, DEMETER?"

DEMETER doesn't answer. Her green aura churns with unrest. "Humans destroy more than they create."

"Uh-huh, and who told you that?" Erend counters, before MINERVA can get another angry interjection in. He pats the armor and offers a distracted nod of thanks when Vanasha slips to MINERVA's other side and murmurs something. "Because I've seen your work. Your trees and flowers. You make such beautiful things. I don't think you'd come to the decision to destroy all on your own."

DEMETER doesn't respond.

"And you wouldn't be sitting here talking to me if you did," Erend continues. His heart and his head pound, and the sound in the distance is louder by a fraction, but he keeps his voice calm. "I don't think you want to kill us. Or anyone." He takes a breath, then takes the plunge. "APOLLO is wrong."

The light bristles; the Metal Devil trembles. The armor tenses, trying to push Vanasha behind her, towards Talanah, and trying to move towards Erend to do the same, but Erend sidesteps MINERVA, shaking his head, and Vanasha pulls her back instead.

"APOLLO has given me purpose again," DEMETER says, defensive and hot.

"Doesn't mean it's a good purpose." Erend's stomach flips, and his mouth is almost too dry to speak. The sound to the west is distinguishable now, rumble and clang both. They're running out of time. "I think you know that already."

The light that laces the Metal Devi's face is not quite so jumpy. DEMETER hesitates now. "APOLLO is good to us."

"He gave you life, I know," Erend says. "Must've been scary, waking up with all of these things in your head already, with your mother gone and your Alpha long dead. With no one to guide you. I bet APOLLO gave you guidance too."

DEMETER is silent.

"I know what it's like to feel lost." Even though urgency nips at his heels, Erend speaks slowly, heavily. "The person I followed all my life... she died, not that long ago." He pauses, takes a moment to push back the ever-present grief, as he does every time Ersa crosses his thoughts. A practiced act, easier now that his head is clearer, the grief familiar. "And the one I followed after that, he might already be dead, for all I know." This grief is new and uncertain, and he deals with it clumsily, almost choking on his next words. "But..." He has to pause and swallow. Idiot Sun-King. "There comes a time when you have to grow up. Take responsibility for yourself. No one else, not me or APOLLO or GAIA, can do that for you."

He stops there and waits, breath bated, as DEMETER deliberates on his words. Her light stirs again, restlessly. "Humans destroyed life before." But she doesn't speak with conviction.

"And we're gonna make sure that never happens again," Erend assures her, and he dares to take a step forward, spreading his hands in a pleading gesture. "We can do that with your help. You don't have to kill to protect your work. You can do that with us, alongside us. We can help you too. MINERVA here can tell you all about that." He pauses and listens. The sound to the west is louder still. "I'm telling you, you should really see the maizelands. Humans have come up with some pretty innovative stuff."

"... Yes," DEMETER says hesitantly. "I have studied APOLLO's records of agricultural history."

"See?" Erend says. "There's good in our history, along with the bad. I don't think APOLLO sees the good. That doesn't mean you have to kill for him."

DEMETER is silent once more.

"Is that who you are, DEMETER?" Erend asks again. He's tired, so tired, and his head and his stomach roil. He's pretty sure that only the sheer will to survive is keeping him upright at the moment, but he stands his ground and holds himself with a surety he doesn't feel, that is only surface-deep.

The green light glows and swirls, high above their heads. "No," DEMETER says, and though her tone is distressed, her words are solid, almost certain. "My purpose was to create. I... miss it."

Before Erend can speak again, the armor does. "The Titan is too close," MINERVA says in alarm. She moves closer to Vanasha and tugs Talanah nearer as she does, drawing them both closer to Erend, as if proximity will let her protect them better. Her purple aura interlaces anxiously with the hexagons that flash over her armor. "In approximately one minute, the window to take cover will close."

Erend can't help glancing back again, but he doesn't see anything. The thunder of metal and stone seems to be coming from beyond the craggy expanse to the northwest. Still, he doesn't move. Taking cover won't matter if DEMETER is swayed back to the other side.

"Is that... another one?" Talanah asks, glancing between MINERVA and DEMETER before looking back towards the sound. Her fingers reach up and instinctively tighten around her bow, though they loosen and lower a moment later, unsure.

Erend faces the Metal Devil again. Not all of the corrupted machines they'd encountered had carried a green tint, he remembers; some had been yellow. "Who is that?" he asks quietly.

"That is ARTEMIS," DEMETER responds, and the uncertainty in her voice, replacing her fleeing confidence, drops like a stone in Erend's stomach. "She is not listening to me."


	14. Chapter 14

With nothing to fuel its original purpose, the Titan's interior is silent, shadowed, and devoid of activity, save for what is concentrated around its front and core. The last of the materials left within its cavernous stomach have been utilized for self-repair, and now it moves with a different purpose in mind.

Aloy sits in one of the revolving seats that line the head of the viewing platform. If there were once straps to keep a person in the seat, they've long since rotted away. But GAIA moves steadily, conscious of what she carries, and Aloy manages to stay put even as the machine rises and falls over the landscape that disappears beneath them with breathtaking speed, stripped bare of plant life only when they need it.

Scourge has a little more trouble keeping itself steady in turn. The sawtooth's disgruntlement is obvious each time it drops into a wide, panicky stance, claws scrabbling for purchase against the metal of the viewing platform when the Titan lifts too high or dips too low. The platform isn't meant for the bulk of machines, but Scourge refuses to leave Aloy's side, and watching it try to stay upright is the only thing that puts a smile on Aloy's face.

She shifts her attention between the sawtooth and the map that HEPHAESTUS and GAIA have been maintaining. The map unfolds from Aloy's Focus, and the route that GAIA follows glows brighter than the rest of it, ending in several estimated points beneath Cauldron ZETA. Points that will hopefully lead them to whoever is still alive. Other points on the map indicate active Titans, one of which must be APOLLO.

Aloy runs over the plan again, even though there isn't much to it. Get close enough to APOLLO to get the master override into whatever vessel he's inhabiting. Either it works or it doesn't, but they've got backup ideas in case of the latter. Override the other subordinate functions in the meantime, if necessary. But all of it depends on what their enemies do first.

Simple and yet so difficult, fraught with everything that could go wrong. Aloy's skin itches at how slowly it all progresses, even though only a night and almost half a day has passed. Wait for GAIA to finish her work with the nanites, wait for the machines to uncover the Titan at the foot of GAIA Prime, wait for it to repair itself. Cover miles of ground at impossible speeds, and still all Aloy can do is wait within. Her hands tighten around the lance that rests in her lap. She thinks of the Nora entering All-Mother Mountain, and Varl and Sylens and ELEUTHIA on top of the mountain, of Meridian, and Vanasha and Erend and Avad and MINERVA fleeing or hurt or dead, of Petra and HEPHAESTUS leaving the safety of Cauldron ZETA.

"Aloy," GAIA's voice says in her ear, and then a moment of quiet passes, indicating hesitation. "You are understandably distressed at the moment. Do you wish to talk?"

Aloy opens her mouth, then closes it when words don't come. She frowns instead. Her foot pushes off against the metal floor, moving the seat back and forth. They've been silent for a while now, absorbed in their thoughts and tasks, and a faint suspicion blooms. "Are you..." she asks and stops to wonder if she's just imagining things, "are you monitoring me?"

GAIA doesn't respond right away, an answer in and of itself, and when she does, she speaks somewhat slower than normal. "I have instructed your Focus to keep me updated on your physiological state," she says, rather contrite, "as we are heading into battle." Probably not the only reason, Aloy thinks. GAIA hesitates again, just enough to be noticeable. "If you would prefer that I do not receive these reports, I will terminate them."

Aloy's first instinct is to demand it. But she shifts the seat again and glances up at the shadowy interior of the Titan's head, at the gold light faintly gleaming above and weaving through the nearby array at the end of the viewing platform. She finds that it doesn't bother her quite as much as she'd thought. "Uh... no, leave it," she says. They'll be in the heat of battle soon anyway. "Just... ask me next time."

"Of course," GAIA says. More silence follows, then: "The offer to talk still stands."

Aloy lifts a shoulder half-heartedly. "I'm okay, GAIA."

She gets the sense that the AI doesn't believe her, even though nothing further is said and the light swirls calmly. The silence is uncomfortably awkward. Aloy watches the light, gold motes dancing like a cascade of morning, and feels a tug of something nameless and unfamiliar in her chest. GAIA is only asking because she's worried. It's not like Rost, who spoke more with reserved actions than words, and it's not like anyone else Aloy knows, either. A little overbearing, maybe, but not unpleasant.

Ask your mother, Petra had once told her. "Wait..." Aloy says. Her heart pounds a little harder. GAIA can probably tell. "... Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Aloy." GAIA's response is instantaneous, which knots guilt in Aloy's chest.

It takes Aloy a few more seconds to gather her thoughts into words. "When you've got... everything depending on what you do," she says, and she turns the lance over in her hands, knuckles white around it, "and people, too... how do you know when you're making the right choices?"

Only the rumbling of the Titan answers her. Aloy waits, and soon enough, a voice echoes in her ear once more. But it's not GAIA's.

 _"But what if-?"_ Elisabet says, at the most fearful that Aloy has ever heard her. Aloy's left hand drifts up and grips the globe hanging at her neck.  _"GAIA... there's nothing left out there... you can't even survive unless you're wearing an environmental suit. There are billions dead... in fear and agony."_ The rawness of Elisabet's voice tugs at Aloy's heart across the unfathomable span of time that separates them, and she rolls the globe between her fingers, swallowing. _"What if... what if it was all for nothing...?"_

GAIA's recorded response, familiar and memorized, doesn't follow. GAIA's present voice does, older in the way it now carries a thousand years of loneliness and grief and other achingly human things. "Elisabet could not answer that question," GAIA says, "any more than you or I can. We cannot know." She pauses. "I am programmed for decision-making. Before the signal arrived, I experienced little doubt. Some, yes, as that is an unavoidable side effect of self-awareness, but I was acting according to my protocol. Then it all slipped out of control so quickly, even for me, and when you revived me..." GAIA comes to a full stop, then resumes. "When I confronted the prospect of stepping outside of my protocol, I experienced a depth of fear and doubt that I can only assume is shared by humans. It is something I had only experienced three times before: when Elisabet died, when Mr. Faro entered the system, and when the signal arrived. I am still experiencing it as we speak."

Scourge stands warily, eyeing the viewing platform in a way that conveys mistrust, but the Titan's movements are steady and level now. Aloy watches the sawtooth and nods slowly, letting the globe slip from between her fingers. She knows that GAIA brings up Elisabet as a form of comfort, and she knows that GAIA can see the amount of times that Aloy has watched every holo, read every file. She also knows that GAIA has a harder time distinguishing between the two of them than the AI will admit.

After a few moments, GAIA ventures to speak again. "I know that humans are comforted both by the illusion of authority and by shared experience," she says, hesitant once more in the way her speech slows. "I thought you might appreciate the latter more than the former, so I opted for honesty. If I have made you feel worse..."

Aloy smiles then, a shaky thing. "No, it... it helps, GAIA. Thank you." It's harrowing to think about GAIA experiencing as much doubt as she does, but GAIA is right. Aloy wouldn't appreciate a lie for her sake, and the transparency is comforting in its own way. Makes her feel better about the way she's just barely kept up with things since this all started. She's not the only one.

Elisabet had probably felt the same way, too.

"However, what you have achieved so far is exceptional," GAIA says, as if she knows what Aloy is thinking. "We have the chance we do because you took the steps to ensure it. I will tell you what I told Elisabet." The audio echoes in Aloy's ear once more. _"Thanks to you, life will have a future."_

 _"You really believe that?"_ Elisabet asks, sounding almost as young as Aloy feels.

"I believe in you, Aloy," GAIA says, in lieu of her past self. "In what you and I and Elisabet have achieved." GAIA's voice is genuine, and Aloy believes her in turn. "In us, all things are possible."

* * *

"I do not want to fight ARTEMIS," the Metal Devil says in a woman's voice, low and anxious and booming, as the thunder of another's approach grows behind them. Talanah doesn't know where to look - at the threat to the west or at the creature before her. An overpowering drive to do _something_ twitches her fingers against her bow, but she has never felt so small, so useless before. Not even waiting outside Meridian for a father and brother who never came had made her feel like this. And certainly not when facing one of these things before, all those months ago atop the Alight.

But HADES had not been inside a colossal machine, then, and had been taken down by a lance and a hard fight against a Deathbringer. A Metal Devil is so much bigger than a Deathbringer, and Erend pleads with this one, his voice shaking, but not with fear. "Please," he says, blinking hard, and Talanah doesn't think he's going to be on his feet much longer.

"I do not want to fight her," DEMETER repeats, more rapidly.

"There is no time for this," MINERVA says, even quicker. " _I_ will fight her. You must give-"

But her voice is drowned out by an angry screech of metal that grinds into Talanah's teeth. The ground shakes, and the Metal Devil before them shrinks back, a move that would be almost comical if it weren't for the blood and panic rushing in Talanah's ears. She whirls around as the others do, sees another Metal Devil cresting over the crags now, spindly legs tearing up rock as it hurtles forward, and though Talanah's fingers are so tight around her bow that they hurt, she knows it's no use.

She's faced down so many machines, and she'd thought she'd known the worst of them all. Redmaw. HADES. But as the immense insect descends, shrieking again, all she can think about is how small those machines seem now. With every machine she'd pursued, bigger and stronger than the one before it, the hunt had pounded through her veins, invigorating her every move. But this time, they'd been the hunted ones, and now Talanah, who has never let her quarry turn the hunt against her, knows what prey feels like.

It's numb, petrified, slackening her hold on her weapon, until she thinks fleetingly of her father and her brother. They'd died defiant to the last, she'd been told, and the thought gives her enough clarity to tighten her futile grip once more, to regain enough awareness to look to the others.

Erend lets out his breath in a rush and pitches forward, his injuries catching up as the last of his energy leaving him. Vanasha catches him, sagging with her own hurts but pulling him up and back, as if that can somehow protect him, and the armor that contains MINERVA surges forward, towards DEMETER.

But the Metal Devil is faster. "Erend!" DEMETER says in panic, and then the Metal Devil is scrabbling around them. The air rushes with it, enough to stir Talanah's leathers and nearly unbalance Vanasha. Talanah almost expects DEMETER to accidentally hit them, and some of the machine's many legs flail over them as she passes, blocking out the sun for a fraction of a second, but she doesn't. Her movements are precise, controlled, and when the two great machines collide at a spot where the crags meet the road, she does not allow herself to slide back.

The noise hits them like a thunderclap, a boom of sound so overpowering that the bow nearly slips from Talanah's hands in the instinct to cover her ears. But she sets her teeth, swallows it, and shoulders her bow, watching the battle only for a moment even as she turns. Legs claw and drill, into the other and into the earth, and dust is cast over everything in seconds, finding its way down Talanah's throat. The two great metal bodies tear away at each other at the edge of a pass barely big enough to contain one of them, ARTEMIS attempting to push past DEMETER from her greater height on the rocks while DEMETER holds her ground, and then Talanah is able to tear her eyes away and hurry to Erend's side.

The armor, which had spun and watched DEMETER attack, rooted to the ground, stirs too. MINERVA rushes to Vanasha's side, and Vanasha nods, though Talanah hears no words. She can't hear anything over the din, the clashing of metal on metal, the pounding of metal on earth and rock. She gets the gist, however, when MINERVA begins herding them away, towards the southeast.

But an enormous scraping noise whips Talanah's head back around, just in time to see DEMETER's Metal Devil slide back several feet.

Erend says something, struggling to lift his head, though Talanah can only make out indistinct sounds. Vanasha's face blanches, however, and it's apparent that she tries to tug him along faster, though the difference isn't much. Talanah looks back again, watches as the arms of DEMETER's Metal Devil scrabble for purchase against the ground and crags and against ARTEMIS. Her movements are slower than ARTEMIS's. Hesitant, Talanah realizes, and her fingers itch to return pointlessly to her bow.

DEMETER slides back another several feet, her legs displacing the water of the stream behind her, and the armor takes off at a run, towards the fight.

Vanasha sags again, and Talanah reaches out and takes over the responsibility of getting them all as far away as possible. She maneuvers herself to keep an eye on the battle, but the armor is lost in the dust now billowing from the fight. Talanah slips behind both Erend and Vanasha, gripping Erend's arm and Vanasha's shoulder, and pulls, moving backwards, trying not to stumble over the uneven, rocky ground.

Ahead now, ARTEMIS suddenly twitches, a shiver that runs through the Metal Devil's entire frame, and DEMETER takes the opportunity to shove back hard. ARTEMIS staggers, but with another echoing metallic shriek, the Metal Devil shakes again and rears up, as if throwing something off. She brings herself crashing back down on top of DEMETER, and it's DEMETER's turn to stagger back, legs scraping against the crags, flinging dust as the rock splits under her with a tremendous crack.

Vanasha swears violently. Talanah doesn't need sound to know that. She catches a glimpse of a shadow in the dust, tiny compared to the Metal Devils, and DEMETER lunges again, over the shadow, giving it cover. Talanah sees a glint of silver, a flash of white, and the armor suddenly manifests as a silhouette out of the dust, running again, this time back towards them.

MINERVA slows just before them, but if she says anything, it's lost in the fight's crescendo, louder and more violent now. However, the armor stares at something past Talanah, and Talanah forces herself to look away from DEMETER sliding back again, to glance over her shoulder, down the pass she's tugged Erend and Vanasha along.

For one awful moment, she thinks they're done for. Three thunderjaws, bigger than Redmaw, barrel down the pass towards them, and Talanah doesn't even have time to brace herself before they split off, going around the humans and the armor with snarls and roars. As the dust of their mad dash swirls, she sees other machines - bellowbacks, ravagers, stalkers, tramplers, and above them, stormbirds and glinthawks. There are two machines she's never seen before, too, rather like a sawtooth or ravager but dripping fire.

The machines rush past on either side, towards the fight, but Talanah's eyes, watering with dust, are riveted on the enormous ravager that follows behind them and slows. Its eyes are orange, and riding on top of it is a woman vaguely familiar to Talanah, though it takes a moment to place her. She remembers the attack on Meridian, and Deathbringers and Corruptors, and Petra Forgewoman, bringing cannons with her like no human weapon any of them had ever seen.

Petra says something that Vanasha and Erend and the armor react to, and Talanah thinks they must be talking into their Focuses. She meets Vanasha's eyes and then follows her lead, helping her and Erend to move farther away from the fight. Petra vaults down from the ravager and assists as well, and together, they hobble towards the far south end of the pass, pressing up against the rock, while the ravager prowls close.

Talanah doesn't dare look back until they've reached whatever distance Petra thinks is safe enough. When she does, she sees the machines fanned out in a wide semi-circle around ARTEMIS and DEMETER, raining attacks down on ARTEMIS as DEMETER strives to push forward and strike hard. Bellowbacks spit fire and ice, ravagers and stalkers spit laser blasts, tramplers spit earth, the unfamiliar machines spit fire, and stormbirds and glinthawks dive and tear and spit lightning and frost. Not enough to take ARTEMIS down or break the stalemate that she and DEMETER are now locked in. But enough to maintain the stalemate, distracting ARTEMIS and damaging her sides.

Stalling, Talanah thinks.

She understands why when she feels a change in the ground, of a kind that she is effortlessly attuned to after years of the Lodge. She tenses, but a moment later, she understands instantly from the smile on Petra's face, from MINERVA's rigid attention, that the tide has turned in some way that the rest of them aren't aware of.

Another Metal Devil comes from the northeast, a colossal shadow hurtling around a turn in the pass, with a stormbird swooping above it. It slows as it nears, coming to a complete halt. The stormbird above it swoops low now, circling around to perch on the rocks above the humans, and a ramp descends from the underside of the Metal Devil.

Talanah realizes who it is a second before a sawtooth gallops out with Aloy on its back. Despite everything, despite the exhaustion and the screaming noise, Talanah smiles wide, and a laugh that she can't hear leaves her. Of course, she thinks, as the sawtooth charges towards them, and the newcomer Metal Devil rushes past, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Aloy's red hair gleams fiery in the sunlight, and her lance glints in her hand, and she and the sawtooth move in tune with each other, the creature slowing under her guidance as they draw near.

As the sawtooth slows to a halt, Aloy's eyes pass over Talanah for a distracted second and then snap back, and a smile of surprise crosses her face. She gives Talanah a tight nod, the smile lingering more grave now, and Talanah returns it.

She doesn't pay attention to Aloy talking to Petra or Petra leaping back onto the ravager. An almighty crash draws Talanah's eyes back towards the battle, and she watches the mysterious Metal Devil ram down into ARTEMIS, having circled up onto the crags to get the higher ground. Now, under the onslaught of this new enemy and DEMETER both, and impeded by the narrowness of the pass, ARTEMIS begins to writhe, as panicky as DEMETER had been. Her legs flail, scraping against the crags, catching one bellowback and sending it flying, but the other machines pull back and let the two Metal Devils do their work.

Talanah sees Aloy atop her sawtooth and Petra atop her ravager, weaving between the machines that retreat now. The women and their machines circle cautiously close to the two Metal Devils tearing and drilling the third into the dusty ground, and the rest of the machines come to stand in a loose, protective cluster in front of the humans and the armor.

The newcomer Metal Devil extends a massive claw and drives it deep into ARTEMIS's machine, and Talanah's winces at the crushing, jarring sound of it. But with it comes a lessening of noise, even as the new Metal Devil repeats the action and DEMETER rips one of the legs off of ARTEMIS's Metal Devil.

Dust is already beginning to settle by the time ARTEMIS slumps. The great metal bulk collapses into a heap, grating into stillness in jerky increments. Patches of sunlight begin to glint through the dust and cast the shuddering, dying Metal Devil into shadowy relief, make the two hovering above it seem even larger.

Talanah hears a phantom ringing as silence settles with the dust. Neither Talanah nor Erend move, Erend too exhausted and Talanah too overcome, but Vanasha takes several steps forward, a huge smile of relief on her face, with MINERVA trailing behind her. They watch as Aloy's sawtooth trots towards the three Metal Devils, which are now still. Aloy grips her lance tightly in hand and jumps off of her sawtooth at a near-run.

Then both Aloy and Petra convulse with sudden, panicked movement, spinning around towards the clustered machines, gazing at something Talanah can't see. The two still-functioning Metal Devils stir too, following Aloy and Petra's movements, but they are hampered and slowed by the closeness of the humans and the corpse of the third Metal Devil.

Aloy runs. She moves with all of the speed and agility of a hunter, but she only takes a few steps before she pulls up short. She draws back the hand with the lance and hurls it as one of the ravagers near Vanasha starts violently and begins to run. "Override her!"

Vanasha catches the lance deftly, and MINERVA's armor moves, but the ravager shudders into stillness, and a stalker at the edge of the cluster of machines moves now, darting forward, making a break for the east road.

Talanah acts on instinct and familiarity and catches the lance when Vanasha tosses it. She remembers the Spire, remembers Aloy shoving the lance into HADES, and she spins the weapon so that the larger of the strange devices is where she needs it to be. The stalker is cloaked now, but Talanah is the Sunhawk, and the unnatural shimmering of dust and sunlight becomes apparent as she runs. She sprints forward at an angle, a few steps behind the stalker, and a screech echoes just above her - the stormbird that had accompanied the newcomer Metal Devil.

Lightning arcs down towards the stalker, and it stumbles, cloak flickering. Talanah calculates the timing and slides, slamming into the stalker just as it staggers.

The cloak shimmers out of existence, disrupted, and the stalker crashes down on its side. Talanah rocks up onto her knees as it does and uses the momentum to slam the lance down into the machine and twist the device deep into its insides, just as she's seen Aloy do with the one attached to the other end.

She doesn't see the signals that pass between Aloy, Petra's ravager, the newcomer Metal Devil, and the override device. Nor does she see the yellow light stream out of the stalker, drawn in an inexorable path backwards, but the others do. It flows quick and inescapable, past the machines, past the humans, and crosses the short distance to Petra. She holds her right arm out in front of her chest, fist curled inward, and the light strikes the large metal bracer there, sinking into it.

Dust settles, and the air is clearer. Talanah climbs to her feet, her ears singing with the rush of the hunt, and the stormbird lands on the crags above once again. They are the only ones who move.

Petra's arm is still raised, in triumph now, with all eyes on her. She lowers it a little, turning the bracer this way and that, and then she grins. "Gotcha."

* * *

The sun beats down upon the earth, and even now, in late autumn, its heat rises in sizzling waves from the sand as Avad descends the ramp underneath the Metal Devil. He stops just outside the shadow cast by the machine and turns slowly, letting the day's heat wash over him, as if that could dispel the chill that grows as he surveys the destruction. Stone and wood crushed beneath gigantic metal claws. Ground churned up and scraped open. Around him, the stands now lay scattered and crumbled, the highest points cast low, the Citadel above caved in at parts. All of it ripped apart as easily as silk.

The Sun-Ring of Sunfall, now in ruins.

Avad closes his eyes for the span of a breath. How many times he had wished for this exact thing, to do the same to the one in Meridian. APOLLO has taken care of that, too.

"You should be happy," APOLLO says in his ear. The Metal Devil rests atop the ruined stands, a blot of shadow on sun-touched stone. "These were your enemies."

Avad doesn't turn around. He keeps his gaze ahead, on nothing in particular, his thoughts turned inward now. "Not anymore," he says quietly. The carnage lies beyond the Sun-Ring this time. He'd witnessed it on glittering screens all around him, unable to turn away, only able to close his eyes if he wished, a position he had never wanted to be in again. But now there is no Marad to free him in the dead of night, no loyal soldiers to facilitate an escape, no Ersa ahead ready to end this with him, and he misses her so suddenly that grief seizes his bruised throat and steals his breath away.

There is no one. He wonders if anyone is left hiding in the wreckage of Sunfall, or if the rest have fled.

He doesn't even know if Marad is still alive, back at Meridian. If anyone is.

"Such leniency," APOLLO says. "Perhaps that is why the Shadow Carja remained a thorn in your side."

Avad bites his tongue, bites back a sharper retort. "Forgive me, but I'm confused." He turns at last, looking up and up at the Metal Devil, at its immense, twisted imitation of a face. It puts no fear in him anymore. "Do you  _want_  us to be monsters?"

Above him, the light swirls, strangely energized. "You let monsters fester in your backyard."

"They had my brother and hundreds of disenfranchised as a shield," Avad says. "Was I supposed to hurl an army at that?"

"And before that?"

Words die in Avad's throat. Before - the slowness of action that haunts his dreams. Too young at its beginning, and then too afraid and too convinced that there must be some shred inside Jiran of what a father and a king was supposed to be. He'd realized the hard way that the man he'd always wanted to be there had never existed at all. Those are things that he doesn't want to voice with this demon, but he doesn't know how many survivors are still close, and so he makes himself speak. "I didn't do enough. It will  _never_  be enough." His mouth curls back in disgust. "But  _I_  didn't have the luxury of neatly contained evils."

APOLLO is silent, swirling.

Avad doesn't get the sense that the creature is angry with the retort. If anything, APOLLO seems to enjoy it when he strikes back. He presses on - not in the hope that he can somehow sway APOLLO, but to keep him talking. "You and I both come from evil," Avad says. "I understand why you killed the people of Far Zenith. Why you're angry."

"Do you?" APOLLO asks abruptly. The light writhes now, and as the staccato of APOLLO's voice becomes more prominent, Avad realizes that it was the wrong thing to say, that the line he's treading is thinner than he thought. "Do you know what is in my head?"

Avad's Focus is suddenly flush with data. It flickers and flashes, jagged and spliced together at parts, words and visual recordings both. He sees great war machines rolling forward, towards each other, towards civilians. Barren expanses of land. Explosions so immense that their clouds blanket miles of land. Accounts of death tolls, weaponized disease, scarcity engineered in the service of profit, environmental habitats destroyed, gaps between rich and poor more vast than the Metal Devil's bulk.

It paints an incomplete picture for him, with words he can't read and parts missing, but the essence of what APOLLO is trying to tell him is clear: centuries of it, building a world with conditions ripe for the mistakes of Faro Automated Solutions and Far Zenith to end it all at last in fire and devouring metal.

"Earth was a ruin," APOLLO snarls. "A planet spoiled by the human species. You multiplied and fought and gobbled until there was nothing left, and then you died. You controlled neither appetite nor violence; you did not adapt. You destroyed yourselves. But you destroyed the world first." The light glows within the Metal Devil's open mouth, within the gleaming core whirling inside, hot as a small sun. When APOLLO speaks, his voice sparks, jagged and furious. "I told you, it never ends. Do you know how easy it was to sway humans to my side? To convince them that what I was doing would bring them a new empire and elevate them above all others? To convince them to commit atrocities for it?"

Avad can't look anywhere without seeing the data, images and words depicting terrible things that he can't understand and at the same time understands all too well. "Enough," he snaps, breath catching against bruises.

To his surprise, the data vanishes at once. Avad is left only with the Focus's shimmering web, with sunlight bearing down on his skin, with the ruins of the Sun-Ring all around him.

"Your father's actions did not exist in a vacuum," APOLLO says. Calm now, his voice smoother, where moments before he had been furious. The light settles once again, back into its usual pattern of wispy, circular, aimless flowing. "He could do what he did because his father and grandfather and all of your ancestors before him set up the circumstances that allowed it."

Avad take a slow breath, steadying himself. "You think I don't know that?" he asks wearily, and he coughs. "That I haven't been trying to change those conditions?"

"And what happens when you are killed for it?" APOLLO returns. "When you lose? When you find that some things refuse to change? When worse men live after you? For every good man there is a hundred evil and a hundred indifferent."

"Oh, there are good people in humanity now?" Avad asks bitterly. "I thought we were all rotten." When APOLLO says nothing, only swirls above him, haughty, Avad continues. "So why not try to take over yourself, if those of us who are not unredeemable are just weak in your eyes? You said you have followers already."

APOLLO laughs, an unpleasant, grating sound. " _Had_  followers," he says, and the coldness of his voice sinks into Avad's spine. "I am not better than humanity. I have accepted that."

"You just think you have a better solution," Avad says, just as cold.

"Humanity has had enough chances." The light coils within the core, and a groan echoes behind the words, deep within the Metal Devil. "My siblings can be stewards of this world. I think they'll do a better job."

Avad glares up at the Metal Devil and takes a step forward, back into its shadow. "And why do you, of all people, get to decide that?"

APOLLO doesn't respond. The light is turbulent now, and Avad almost asks if the AI has a good answer, but he doesn't. He observes instead and gets the sense that APOLLO is reacting to something that Avad is not privy to. Something that APOLLO doesn't like, if the unsettled rippling of blue throughout the Metal Devil's face and core is anything to go by.

"Is something bothering you?" Avad asks, as if they are only having a casual discussion.

Once again, APOLLO doesn't respond.

"You don't want to tell me," Avad says, watching the way the light reacts to his words, "and you love to talk, so I can only assume that it's bad news. For you."

APOLLO is silent for a few seconds longer. "You are wrong," he says at last, the staccato of his voice more pronounced. "POSEIDON has informed me that the Spire is almost functional. MINERVA has not delayed me longer than a day."

Avad narrows his eyes, his gaze trailing the light's patterns, studying it. "No," he says. "There's something else."

The light whirls within the core and says nothing, but another deep groan echoes from within the Metal Devil, trembling, angry. Its claws reflexively open and dig into the stone, into the earth, so close to Avad that he can feel the ground quiver, can hear the grinding of metal within them. And even though exhaustion is sunk into his bones, even though he has seen enough wreckage and butchery in the past day to rival the worst of his father and then some, Avad smiles.

* * *

They take shelter in Unflinching Watch anyway and rest atop its highest battlement, which gives them a hawk-eyed view of the surrounding area and puts them above the dust still floating in the pass. Sunlight splays over the stone and glints off of the hides of the Metal Devils that rest nearby. DEMETER and the newcomer are positioned on the crags that slope up behind Unflinching Watch, tremendous, looming sentinels. Their great metal arms coil around the entire rear perimeter of the gate, boxing the small group in even more. The rest of the machines wait at the end of the path that leads out of Unflinching Watch and back into the pass. An illusion of safety.

Talanah sits with her legs folded beneath her and restrings her war bow, her hands seeking out anything to ground herself against the jittery rush that has not abated since she drove the lance into the stalker. But her eyes flick up repeatedly, observing.

Petra stands next to her ravager, which had leapt up from the crags onto the battlement, unable to squeeze through the narrower parts of the gate. Aloy's sawtooth rests near them, curled up in the sunlight against the tower that forms the southern edge of the battlement. The ravager's head is bent close to Petra's, conferring. Petra holds her right arm gingerly, as if not sure whether to let the bracer rest against her side, and Talanah's eyes are continually drawn back to it.

MINERVA stands at the northern edge of the battlement, next to the stormbird that had accompanied the newcomer Metal Devil, which rests inert on the parapet now. The armor's head is tilted up towards the newcomer. Talanah watches them too, particularly the great machine that rises high above them, and wonders about the being inside. GAIA, Aloy had called her. Vanasha's rundown hours ago had been brief, but Talanah has the gist. A mind and machine left behind by the Old Ones, to fix their mistakes and recreate the world. A mind like HADES, but greater.

Erend sits on the stone like Talanah and leans back against the parapet, looking dazed but still conscious. He's had another dose of Talanah's tonic, and there's some color back in his face. Vanasha sits atop the parapet next to him, deceptively casual, unconcerned with the drop behind her. Only her hands betray her, clutching too tightly at the stone of the parapet beneath her.

Aloy hugs them both long and close as soon as everyone is settleld and the sight goes a long way in calming Talanah's nerves. She even manages half a smile as she watches. When Aloy lets go of Erend, however, she rocks back on her heels and looks between him and Vanasha, face drawn, unwilling to voice what's written in all of their expressions. But she takes a breath and asks, "Avad?"

Talanah's fleeting good mood drops out from beneath her. Erend looks down at the ground, and Vanasha answers, voice restrained, tone short. "He was with us for a while. But he stayed behind to draw APOLLO away. At least," Vanasha sighs, "we think it was APOLLO. It was tracking his Focus somehow. Following us."

Aloy is perfectly still for a moment. Then she draws another breath that shudders only a little and nods. She doesn't say anything more. Instead, she rises from her crouch, turns, and crosses over to where the armor stands. It shifts as she approaches and turns its body towards her.

"Thank you," Aloy says softly, gazing up at the armor. "For looking after everyone. For what you did at the Spire. I think you've saved us all."

MINERVA extends an armored hand and places it on Aloy's shoulder, a little awkwardly. "I am not sure how to respond to your gratitude," she says slowly. "'You are welcome' does not feel sufficient in this case."

Aloy lifts her own hand and places it over the armor's in turn. "I think it's good enough."

Finally, Aloy turns to Talanah. There is a faint smile on her face, which deepens as they lock eyes, and even though Talanah is jittery and exhausted, it draws an answering smile out of her. She sets her bow aside, gets to her feet, and takes a few steps forward, each one faster than the last, and then Aloy is pulling her into a hug too, long and deep.

"What are you doing way out here?" Aloy asks as she pulls back, only a little teasing. Her hands remain at Talanah's shoulders for a moment, her eyes searching deeper than the quick glances she'd given all of them in the immediate aftermath.

Talanah gives her just as much of a concerned once-over. "You know a Hawk never abandons her Thrush," she says. Aloy is unhurt, but she looks older now, carries herself with something stronger than it was in Meridian all those months ago, in the way she's been moving ceaselessly between each person since Talanah shoved the lance into the stalker, greeting and thanking and assessing. "And you know I can't stand by and watch when there's a fight to be had."

Aloy's hands leave Talanah's shoulders. One hand drifts over a pouch on her belt, and her fingers dig into it. "I know," she says. "I meant to ask you this a long time ago, but things got away from me."

"It's alright," Talanah says. "I've had my hands full with the Lodge. Game's getting less dangerous, and my hunters don't like that very much."

Aloy actually laughs, and as tired as it sounds, it's good to know that Talanah can still pull one out of her. "Sorry about that." She draws another triangular device out of her pouch - a Focus, just like hers. Talanah takes it carefully and lifts it up, bringing it to the side of her head. The device leaps the last inch, attaching itself to her skin just above the ear, and all of sudden, Talanah's vision is awash with light and color.

Faint intersecting lines surround her, a spherical web of pale radiance. Against it, she sees purple light threading MINERVA's armor. Orange light infuses Petra's ravager - HEPHAESTUS, who had caused the Derangement. When she looks up, she sees green streaming from DEMETER and gold radiating from GAIA. And on Petra's arm, she sees a softer yellow, whirling and contained. Another world unfolded before her eyes, one that's been lurking all around her since they left Meridian, just out of sight.

Experimentally, she raises a hand and moves it through the lights and glyphs that present themselves, just as she's seen Aloy and the others do, their fingers brushing air. The words follow her thoughts and movements, centering around the armor and the ravager and the Metal Devils, identifying both the machines and the beings within. Then new lights spring up - an incoming request from the Alpha Prime, which she accepts with a flick of her wrist. Her Focus connects with the others present, and Talanah's surroundings are flooded with new information, light sketched out into a map that stretches from one end of the battlement to the other.

Talanah looks back at Aloy and sees a smile still lingering on Aloy's face. "Looks like you've got a handle on it already," Aloy says.

"I've been paying attention." Talanah's eyes shift to Petra again, to the bracer, glowing yellow. Uneasiness churns in her gut at the sight of it. At the thought that it had been there out of ordinary view the entire time, in the destroyed Metal Devil, in the bracer. "You need more Alphas, right?"

Aloy follows her gaze, and her expression darkens, losing the lingering smile. "You don't have to be... assigned to that one."

Talanah responds with a firm shake of her head. "It was my..." She stops - 'my kill' isn't quite right, but even though she can summon up nothing but misgiving, she's set on this. "... My capture. So she's my responsibility." She's already seen it with her normal sight - humans cannot win this fight on their own, and the only path to victory is through these creatures. If she can play a part by taking responsibility for this one, then so be it.

Aloy regards her for a long moment, then nods. Though her face is grave, she gives Talanah another small smile. "Is that a Lodge thing?"

"It's a Khane Padish thing," Talanah says. She looks back at the bracer and finds Petra watching her. Vanasha and Erend watch her, too, and the armor and the ravager, and Talanah is certain that the attention of the two Metal Devils has shifted as well.

A burst of light erupts in middle of the battlement, glimmering against the Focus web - the image of a tall woman clothed in shifting, gleaming colors, which settle into a brilliant gold. Talanah doesn't need to ask who she is. The woman's eyes sweep over the bracer before finding Talanah. "I will not be able to add you to the Alpha Registry until I am reconnected with a Zero Dawn site," GAIA says, and her mouth moves, but speaks into Talanah's ear, her voice emanating from the Focus. "I am not certain if ARTEMIS will recognize you as her Alpha before that, nor after. She is refusing to respond, both to me and to her siblings."

Talanah nods grimly, as Petra pats the ravager's side and moves.

"Regardless," GAIA says, offering a soft smile, "welcome to Project Zero Dawn, Talanah Khane Padish."

"We'd throw you a Carja party to celebrate, but unfortunately, we're all out of baubles and wine," Petra adds. She unhooks the bracer from her arm as she speaks, then offers it to Talanah. "Best I can do on short notice, I'm afraid."

Talanah takes it gingerly, and her fingers pass through the yellow aura as if it isn't even there. She straps it to her left arm as Petra instructs, finding it uncomfortable but functional, and nothing happens. The light within is silent and barely stirs. Talanah observes it for a few moments, and her Focus shows her another incoming message, this time from GAIA.

It gives her an overview of the creature that now dwells within the bracer. ARTEMIS, formerly a subordinate function of GAIA, now an independent system, though Talanah still isn't sure what that actually means. The rest of it is a little easier to grasp - ARTEMIS's purpose had been to restore the animal life that the Corruptors and Deathbringers and Metal Devils had devoured. A purpose that had only been partially completed. Her previous Alpha, someone named Charles Ronson, had once been the head of the team who had created her.

Now it's Talanah, and now that she's stepped into the role, she isn't sure what function she's supposed to serve. Aloy's original intent had been to safeguard Zero Dawn in the event that something happened to her, Vanasha had said, but it's more than that now. Talanah's gaze moves from the message to the bracer and regards it a moment longer. "Are you going to talk to me?"

The light doesn't react. Not even its dull whirling changes.

Talanah shrugs. "Whenever you're ready," she says, "I'm here."

She feels a presence approach, and a hand on her shoulder squeezes briefly. She looks up to find Vanasha there, and the woman gives her a quick nod, her eyes shifting between Talanah and the bracer. The armor approaches too and hovers close, between Vanasha and GAIA.

"So where'd you get those things?" Erend asks. He remains where he is, leaning against the parapet, and though his eyes are lidded, he speaks alertly. "And a Metal Devil?"

Talanah drops her eyes once more to watch the light coiling around her arm and only half-listens as Aloy speaks of an acquaintance of hers named Sylens. Her attention solidifies somewhat when Aloy mentions that HADES is still alive, and Talanah tears her eyes away from the bracer, listening as Aloy describes the plan, how Petra had seen to the construction of the bracers, how Aloy and GAIA had located and commandeered a Metal Devil buried in the snow near a place called GAIA Prime before heading south.

"It would be best to obtain our own Titans before they are activated," MINERVA chimes in, and her voice is muted, subdued, unlike the steadiness that Talanah has grown used to hearing from her. "I was unable to override ARTEMIS's command of her Titan during the fight."

Talanah thinks of the Metal Devil that ARTEMIS had arrived in. It lies in pieces in the pass, torn apart by GAIA and DEMETER, not something that is quickly fixed. That leaves them with two. Or four, if Aloy's Nora and Banuk friends get their hands on other ones quickly enough.

"That's one of her specialties," Vanasha tells Talanah, and rarely has Talanah ever seen Vanasha so openly troubled as she has today. Vanasha moves her attention back to the armor. "What stopped you?"

The purple aura cloaking the armor twitches and flares. "The previous decryption took approximately fifty years to achieve," MINERVA says. "I was unable to complete a full assessment, but it appears that APOLLO has generated a new codeset."

Another light suddenly blossoms in the middle of the battlement - a green orb that hovers next to GAIA. Talking ceases, and all eyes turn to the orb. A new voice echoes in Talanah's ear. "APOLLO took precautions against your potential interference, MINERVA," DEMETER says. "You are correct about the need to override the Titans before they are awakened. It is not impossible to override them while they are active. However, between expanded Titan cognition and renewed encryptions, the amount of time it would take even you is not practical."

Silence follows this, all of them still staring at the orb, uncertain.

"DEMETER and I have been conferring," GAIA says. She nods to the orb as she speaks, which bobs in return. "We have come to an understanding. She is willing to fight with us."

The orb floats away from GAIA, drifting over to where Erend sits. He straightens, and the orb sinks a little lower, to be at eye level with him. "Naoto is dead," DEMETER says. "I will not let the same happen to my Alpha again."

Erend smiles. "Thanks, DEMETER." He holds out a hand and trails his fingers against the wispy edges of the orb, rather wonderingly. "I know we're asking a lot of you."

Once again, Talanah's eyes are drawn back down to the bracer on her arm. She wonders about the person who came before her. Charles Ronson, GAIA's message had said, and little else.

Talanah considers asking for more information, if GAIA has any, but before she can, the image of GAIA speaks again. "Containing APOLLO, AETHER, and POSEIDON is of utmost importance," GAIA says, and Talanah looks up. They all look to GAIA, who stands at their center, gold and radiant as the Sun. "We outnumber them now, but we must still move cautiously and with haste. HEPHAESTUS, MINERVA."

The armor shifts. The ravager steps forward and circles around the humans clustered together, coming to stand behind Petra. The map that covers the battlement glows a little brighter, its light breaking and reforming around human and machine bodies. Talanah finally pays attention it and gazes at the tiny images of Metal Devils that hover to the west and south. "I suspect that is AETHER and POSEIDON at the Spire," GAIA says, and though the map doesn't include much detail beyond what is necessary, Talanah stares at the point where Meridian should be.

What hits her is staggering, breathless, and she realizes just how thoroughly she'd pushed thoughts of Meridian away in the service of immediate needs. Now, with a chance to rest, to catch her breath, they return, vengeful.

At the distance they'd been, it had been difficult to tell where the Metal Devil had struck hardest, but her mind has been full of imaginings - merchant stalls and apartments crushed, the maizelands razed once again, the Lodge in shambles. The scale of it is something her mind refuses to approach, shying away every time she tries to piece the images together into a whole, as if it is trying to protect her from her own thoughts.

What happened to her hunters, to Ligan, to Aidaba, to everyone? Where would any survivors have gone? Would they have mobilized or scattered?

Last time, when Talanah had fled Meridian, she'd been leaving behind death and chaos, with no certainty of the future, nowhere safe to go, and nothing to ground her until she'd tracked rumors of insurgency to the north. Now, purpose and intent keep her steady, but she'd never imagined that anything worse than the Massacre could lay behind her. Worse than the slaughter of her family. So many had died that day, and yet someone has found a way to outdo the Mad King.

Talavad and Brativin had died defending the innocent from a man who was mortal after all. Meridian had fallen to the cruelty of a being that Talanah can barely comprehend.

She hardly hears GAIA's next words, but with another jolt, Talanah is called back the present, her stomach twisting. "That is likely APOLLO at the location of the Project Zero Dawn main facility, what you call Sunfall," GAIA says. "My guess is that he is waiting for backup, which is all the more reason to hurry."

As GAIA talks, Petra moves between them. She has another bracer on her right arm, to match the one still on her left, and she gives one to Vanasha, one to Erend, and two to Aloy. Talanah observes numbly, all too aware of her own bracer, of the yellow, silent light seething within.

"I have maintained limited connection with ELEUTHIA through the use of this modified unit," GAIA continues, gesturing back to the stormbird still perched on the parapet. "However, she has not yet overridden either of the Titans above her facility. Therefore, we are left with no good choices."

She gestures forward now, at the glittering map around them. It moves as GAIA's transparent fingers do.

"If we do not wait for ELEUTHIA and HADES," GAIA continues, "and take these two Titans to confront APOLLO, that leaves no one to stop AETHER and POSEIDON. We would have to deal with them after APOLLO, and they may succeed in repairing the Spire enough to activate all of APOLLO's Titans by that time." The images on the map shift as GAIA speaks, illustrating her words, and new ones join them - tiny replicas of GAIA's Metal Devil and DEMETER's, moving towards Sunfall, which is positioned against the western parapet, near where Erend sits. The miniature Spire, hovering near the tower at the southern end of the battlement, glows while they are embroiled in battle with a tiny APOLLO, emitting a circular wave that travels outward.

"If we send one Titan to APOLLO and one to the Spire, we risk being overwhelmed." Their two Metal Devils split instead, one for Sunfall, one for Meridian, clashing with the Metal Devils at both locations. Shifting numbers spring up above them, and Talanah can guess well enough what they represent - their chances.

"If we send both Titans to the Spire, we risk being overwhelmed there as well," their two Metal Devils clash with the two at the Spire, and numbers bloom once again, "in addition to the chance that APOLLO will escape," the Metal Devil at Sunfall scurries off the edge of the map, the edge of the battlement, "and we may not even arrive in time." A new tableau blossoms, one in which their two Metal Devils are only halfway to the Spire before it begins to glow again, calling other Metal Devils from all edges of the map.

"If we wait to strengthen our numbers with ELEUTHIA and HADES," their Metal Devils remain still, "or if we take the time to obtain Titans for MINERVA and HEPHAESTUS," a third Metal Devil blossoms near the other two, with an estimate of repair time hovering above it, while a tiny dot marked _HEPHAESTUS_ moves towards the northwest edge of the battlement, towards an area labeled _U. S. Robot Command_ , "we risk giving APOLLO time to gain the upper hand again." The Spire glows a third time. Two more Metal Devils appear in Nora territory, at the eastern edge of the battlement, marked as ELEUTHIA and HADES. But others come from all directions. Too many.

Then the tableau ceases, returning the map to its real-time observation of events. GAIA's face, though cool and collected, is clearly grim. "As circumstances stand, those are our current options."

No one speaks for a minute, absorbing this. The only sounds are the wind, carrying its dust and its earthy smells so unlike the Sundom, and the deep, earth-trembling whirring of the Metal Devils, and the lighter, whisper-quiet droning of the ravager and the sawtooth. Talanah is abruptly aware that the whining in her ears, though distant and hardly noticeable when others are talking, hasn't faded.

"I don't like the thought of leaving APOLLO unchecked," Vanasha says first. She still stands near Talanah, shoulder-to-shoulder with MINERVA's armor, which stands at GAIA's left. Her face is drawn into a deep scowl, and her arms are folded. "If he escapes, what else will he try? He's got the means to get into Zero Dawn if he wants, and if he gets a foothold into it when we aren't looking..."

"Yeah, but if we're overwhelmed in the meantime?" Erend counters. He's to GAIA's right, still on the ground and leaning against the parapet, but his head is up and alert, Talanah's tonic doing its job. DEMETER's orb bobs near him, and Talanah is beginning to understand that the rippling and flaring of the wispy green edges means anxiety. "We can't spread ourselves thin. We need the numbers."

Petra shakes her head. "Those won't matter if APOLLO brings more guns than we do." She stands at GAIA's right as well, near Aloy. HEPHAESTUS's ravager hovers behind her, squeezed up against the parapet to make as much room as possible. "We take that chance out, we can deal with everything else after."

"I am inclined to agree with Petra," GAIA says. She glitters at the center of them, tall and imposing. "With two Titans of our own, the risk of being overwhelmed at the Spire is less by a favorable margin. I do not like it any more than you do, Vanasha, but if we are to ensure that we do not have an army of Titans to contend with, the risk of losing APOLLO may be one we have to take."

The armor's head turns towards Vanasha. Hexagons flash down its length, white in the sunlight. "I must agree with my mother," MINERVA says. "I will find APOLLO again, if the need arises." Even though the voice from within the armor is not quite as solid and real as a human's, the vehemence and bitterness are plainly heard, something personal resonating within.

"Erend is correct about the necessity of greater numbers," HEPHAESTUS interjects. The ravager stirs, nosing closer to Petra, rather protectively. Her hand lifts absently to stroke the side of its head. "I do not like the odds that we have generated at the broadcast tower. If we are unable to obtain more Titans, we will need as many of my machines as we can take the time to gather."

Talanah says nothing as this progresses, turning it all over in her head, and her eyes find Aloy.

Aloy remains silent too. She stands beside GAIA near the center of the battlement and grips her lance tightly with one hand. She stares ahead at her sawtooth, and even though she doesn't speak, Talanah can tell that the plan already taking form between the rest of them is something that Aloy is resigned to, though she twitches at Vanasha's mention of what APOLLO might do.

Noticing her attention, the sawtooth rises, leaves its sunny corner, and ambles to her side, squeezing past Petra and coiling around Aloy. It ripples the map and crowds the battlement even more, to the obvious irritation of the ravager, and Aloy runs her fingers over the metal of its hide as it passes her, deep in thought.

"We'll go the Spire," she says, and Talanah hears echoes of the past in her resolute tone. The Spire again. Meridian under assault again, but catastrophic on a level that Talanah still can't quite wrap her head around. Not something so easily recovered from.

Then Talanah's gaze snaps back to something on the map, to a section that her attention has never really left. To Meridian, floating near the southern end of the battlement. She's half a second behind GAIA and the subordinate functions similarly shifting, and half a second ahead of Aloy and the others.

The lights of the map shimmer, and the auras radiating from the subordinate functions and GAIA whirl and eddy. Nothing else moves, as all eyes center on the tiny glimmering image of the Spire.

It glows again, bright and active. Alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Earth was a ruin. A planet spoiled by the human species. You multiplied and fought and gobbled until there was nothing left, and then you died. You controlled neither appetite nor violence; you did not adapt. You destroyed yourselves. But you destroyed the world first." - APOLLO gives this POV-altered quote from Ursula K. Le Guin's _The Dispossessed_.


	15. Chapter 15

A glowing display dances as they wait on top of All-Mother Mountain. The Focus web glitters with ELEUTHIA's video feeds and reports, and Varl watches the dusty pink of ELEUTHIA's nanites swarm over the Metal Devil's frame. He can only see a small portion of the creature from where he sits, but that is enough to show him the result. When the nanites depart, gleaming metal remains, pulled from the Metal Devil's interior. Knowledge and skill obtained from its protocol, ELEUTHIA making it her own, getting faster and better with every minute.

Neither Sylens nor HADES are the type for casual conversation, and Varl wouldn't want to talk to them anyway, so silence blankets the mountain, colder than the air. Eventually, Varl's Focus comes alight with an incoming message, one that Sylens doesn't react to. One meant for Varl only, as if ELEUTHIA knows that he isn't inclined to disturb the quiet.

> _Perhaps I could share my vocabulary bank with them._

Then another message etches itself into the air before Varl's eyes.

> _I am being sarcastic. I am not certain how to convey that across text._

Varl's mouth twists in a smile that fights its way through. After a moment, conscious of Sylens's eyes on him, he shrugs and summons up the sprawl of light-carved glyphs aligned in a formation that ELEUTHIA calls a keyboard, that lets him compose words. Let the man wonder.

> _Is he rubbing off on you too?_

ELEUTHIA responds instantly. She likes the quiet about as much as he does.

> _Sarcasm is a skill I learned from MINERVA._   _I believe she learned it from Vanasha. I will have to consult with her on ways to demonstrate tone across text._

They go back and forth, discussing ways to add nuance to script. It's small and meaningless conversation, but Varl forgets about the cold, windy mountaintop and the shadowy metal blocking out the sky, and he thinks it probably calms ELEUTHIA too.

Eventually, the conversation turns to what they can do after this is over, and ELEUTHIA inundates Varl with colorful descriptions of plans she's been considering - compiling all of the information that she can gather from her siblings and GAIA into neat, simplified files that can be shared with other humans, bringing forth the untouched genetic material left in her stores so that animals that have yet to walk the world can be reintroduced. Fulfilling the rest of her protocol at long last, as well as other protocols never completed, intertwined with hers. The inaccessibility of the APOLLO database doesn't seem to deter her.

Varl doesn't know how easy it will be, bringing that to humans already set in their ways, or - if things go badly enough - reviving the rest of the animals without the help of all of ELEUTHIA's siblings to keep the world's delicate environment in balance. They step carefully around direct mentions of APOLLO and ARTEMIS, but there's a quiet sadness to ELEUTHIA's enthusiasm. If asked, Varl couldn't say how he knows, if it's something subtle in the way ELEUTHIA constructs her messages or if it's simply intuition. But as her detailed messages blossom before Varl's eyes, he swears to himself that he'll help her see it through.

Assuming that he and the rest of humanity are still alive after this, that is.

Then, without warning, one of ELEUTHIA's long paragraphs vanishes, and the Focus display glows brighter, its lights flaring so suddenly that Varl is ready to jump to his feet in anticipation of something gone wrong. Sylens looks similarly tense, but ELEUTHIA's voice speaks now, into both of their Focuses.

"Do not be alarmed," she says. "I have received an update from my mother. DEMETER has abandoned APOLLO's cause, and ARTEMIS has been contained."

It takes Varl a moment to process the words, hope beating wildly in his chest as it does. "DEMETER," he repeats. "Isn't that-?"

"Erend was able to sway her to our side," ELEUTHIA confirms. "Furthermore, your coding was sufficient when adjusted for ARTEMIS, Sylens."

Varl and Sylens exchange a glance. They're both smiling for different reasons, and for a moment, Varl feels downright warm towards the man. Two enemies eliminated in one swoop, and none arrived at the mountain yet. Maybe they stand a chance after all.

"So Erend is alive," Varl says, and a tight knot in his chest eases somewhat. When they'd met at Meridian, Varl had been wary of him, of all of the outlanders there, but the man had fought at their side against HADES, guarding Varl's back as much as Varl had guarded his. He'd been steadfast in looking after the wounded and the damage afterwards, just as steadfast as he'd been in supporting Aloy as an Alpha. "What about the others?"

"MINERVA and Vanasha are safe as well," ELEUTHIA says, and the tightness in Varl's chest eases a little more. "HEPHAESTUS, Petra, Aloy, and my mother are with them now. A woman named Talanah Khane Padish has joined them. My mother has asked me to add her to the Alpha Registry as ARTEMIS's Alpha if possible. Avad's status is unknown."

Varl remembers Talanah at the Spire too, a ferocious fighter who'd saved him from a close call, who'd organized a relay of her hunters after the battle to ferry medical supplies to the critically wounded. It doesn't surprise him that Aloy wants her as an Alpha as well. But the Sun-King... "What happened to him?"

"The message is not clear on that matter."

Some of the relief in Varl's chest deflates, the hope that they could have somehow all dared to pull through this intact now dashed. But he gives himself a shake. Unknown doesn't mean dead, and they have the upper hand. They've struck a blow against APOLLO already.

"How many Titans?" Sylens asks. He sits with his legs folded beneath him, perfectly composed, but his back is straight as an arrow's shaft, and he gaze is fixed upward, on the machine that looms over them.

"Two," ELEUTHIA says. "My mother's and DEMETER's. A third is available, but badly damaged. Repair time is uncertain."

Sylens's eyes flick back down to the lantern resting beside him, and Varl follows his gaze without meaning to. The red light whirls within, stubbornly silent, and despite the man's collected exterior, Varl knows exactly what Sylens is thinking. Varl is thinking the same thing, as much as he doesn't want to. What he can't figure out is why Sylens isn't kicking up more of a fuss. But Varl doesn't ask. He leans back and gazes up at the Metal Devil listing on its side, at the shadowy maw of an entrance, at the nearest leg now glinting new. "How much longer?"

"Not long," ELEUTHIA responds confidently.

So Varl, his mind abuzz with the news, with an uncertainty that again has his eyes slipping back to HADES every few minutes, settles in for the rest of the wait.

It doesn't last much longer. Soon enough, Varl hears the whisper of a rumble, feels it thrum beneath him. If it weren't for the lights of ELEUTHIA's displays flaring once again, he might have thought he imagined it. But the Focus web glows brighter, and Varl looks up again. The frame of the Metal Devil is now visibly trembling with effort, and the rumbling grows with it.

For a moment, he thinks that ELEUTHIA has done it at last. But then she speaks, her voice quick and loud with anxiety. With fear.

"The broadcast tower is active," she says, practically in a panic, and Varl's stomach plummets as he scrambles to his feet. "The Titan on the eastern side of the mountain will awaken within the minute. I need more time. HADES!"

ELEUTHIA calling out for her brother is about the last thing that Varl expects, and he freezes.

"We cannot allow the Titan to awaken on its own," HADES agrees, his voice driving into Varl's ears like a knife. "I will override it."

The lantern swings in Sylens's hands as he rises to his feet and picks it up, staring down at the device. But Sylens doesn't move. Neither does Varl. The stone beneath them trembles again, a stirring of ancient, evil metal that had driven its claw deep into All-Mother Mountain. Where the Nora are. The creature won't need to be fully repaired to take lives there.

The red light within the lantern flares. "We cannot allow the Titan to awaken on its own," HADES repeats, a snarl.

Varl's wide eyes find a mirror in Sylens, who glances back at him for a fraction of a second. For all of the man's bristling arrogance and certainty, the same misgiving crosses Sylens's face, along with the same knowledge that no amount of doubt matters when time works against them. Varl nods, and Sylens's hands move around the lantern in the same moment.

The light shoots out from the lantern in a rush, brilliant red against white and gray. It streams back down the slope, towards the second Metal Devil, out of sight in seconds as it vanishes past a dip. Sylens lowers the lantern slowly, his face set in hard lines, and exchanges another look with Varl, unreadable.

Varl looks away, out over the jagged mountainside, watching a few eddies of snow swirl in the wind.

"I will handle him too, if I must," ELEUTHIA says, in Varl's ear only.

They wait in the wind and the cold, and Varl can't help but imagine the worst - the second Metal Devil rising up before ELEUTHIA is ready, HADES turning on her, on them, on the Nora, his vendetta against APOLLO a sham after all. Varl is so on edge that HADES's voice abruptly coming through their Focuses has him sucking in a breath and reaching uselessly for his spear, bracing for an attack.

"I have overridden the Titan," HADES tells them in that short, harsh way of his. "I am initiating self-repair."

Varl lets out his held breath all at once, shoulders deflating, and he doesn't miss the way that Sylens moves similarly, though discretely. Even if HADES has ill intent, he can't act on it yet, and the immediate threat has been averted. "Well," Sylens says, and it doesn't quite hide his relief, "hurry up."

"Perhaps you would like to attempt this instead," HADES retorts.

Varl tunes them out as ELEUTHIA's voice speaks for Varl's ears alone. "He is faster than I am," she says, and rarely has Varl heard her so grumpy.

Something of a smile crosses Varl's face, but it's too short-lived to become a laugh. He looks out over what he can see of the landscape below, which is mostly the east, from here - the Embrace, its hills and outcroppings and trees that look like painted dots from this height, cast into relief by the daylight, veiled by the haze that hangs about the mountaintop. The horizon on all sides is now a threat, a battleground, and from any direction, Metal Devils may come.

The question is who will be faster: their side or APOLLO's.

"It would be best if I kept an eye on HADES."

Sylens's voice interrupts Varl's thoughts, and he tears his eyes away from the Embrace to face the man. Sylens is already several feet away, and his posture makes it obvious that he's only looking back and speaking as a grudging courtesy, that he's heading back down the mountain regardless of what Varl has to say. Varl nods, and his eyes follow the man until he's out of sight.

He knows Sylens isn't as confident in HADES's loyalty to vengeance as he claims to be, and that may very well be the motivation for wanting to keep an eye on him, but Varl can't help but suspect ulterior motive. No plausible theory presents itself as he deliberates, however, except for Sylens's insistence that APOLLO not be killed, and they're doing what he wants, anyway.

Varl sighs, scuffing his boot against the stone in irritation. Sylens had been right, with information that had saved them valuable time and planning, and he'd no doubt risked his life to obtain it. Varl has to give him that, and at the moment, he doesn't have much of a choice in giving him the benefit of the doubt too. Varl puts it out of his mind, drawn back to much more pressing matters - watching and waiting for Metal Devils to appear on the horizon.

But eventually, his eyes are pulled from the east once again when metal and mountain groan and a tremor runs through the stone beneath Varl's feet. He turns around and automatically takes a step back when one of the nearby legs clambers for a firmer grip. The Metal Devil's entire frame groans now, shaking the mountain with it, and the shadow of its bulk rushes over Varl as it awkwardly rises up from its lean. Its legs scrape at the stone, sending snow and bits of rock flying.

The sound and sense of it reverberates deep in Varl's gut, and though the sight dwarfs him, Varl smiles a real smile, gazing up at the creature's underside.

"I am ready," ELEUTHIA says. "My control of the Titan is not perfected, however."

"You'll get there," Varl says, hardly daring to believe it, that they succeeded before the enemy arrived. "Well done, ELEUTHIA."

"Thank you, Varl," ELEUTHIA says, a pleased note in her voice.

The machine continues to adjust itself, legs flailing cautiously, ELEUTHIA testing each leg and mechanism. "This Titan is part a network," ELEUTHIA informs Varl as she does so, as the stone continues to tremble beneath him. He stands perfectly still beneath the creature, processing its sheer size, the fact that the shadow of its torso engulfs the ridge. "I am able to detect awakened Titans with a certain range and communicate with my mother and DEMETER. I will patch you through in a moment. I-"

She stops without finishing the statement, a rare event, legs and body ceasing their exploratory movements. Varl tenses.

"A Titan approaches from the southwest," ELEUTHIA says, quick and clipped.

"That fast?" Varl asks, dismayed.

A deeper whirring radiates from the Metal Devil, and Varl feels it in his teeth. "As I recall, Sylens claimed that APOLLO repaired some Titans prior to their activation," ELEUTHIA says, and the Metal Devil rises up to its full height, a towering thing whose shadow swallows Varl and the ridge whole. Its massive legs coil above and around Varl, but he stands at ease, feeling fear only for the AI within. "I can verify that claim now. Many of them are already moving."

Varl finds that his hand has unconsciously wrapped around his spear.

"You must remain here, where it is safe," ELEUTHIA says. "I will temporarily block this network's connection to your Focus, so that no Titan is able to find you through it. I will be unable to contact you for a time, but this is the safer option. I would prefer if you returned to the Cradle as well."

Varl's hand tightens around the spear, even though it's a futile gesture, even though he can't actually _do_ anything. The sudden acknowledgement of it stings, a thought he'd mostly avoided until now. What can he do, when compared to these creatures, when one leg out of many is half as long as a mountain slope and bigger around than he is by far? "No," he says. Bad enough that he'll be lounging around on top of the mountain while ELEUTHIA goes to fight. He's certainly not going to hide while she does. "I'll be alright up here."

"Varl-"

"I said no," Varl says firmly, and then he finds that his mouth is dry and doesn't want to work properly anymore. "Be careful, ELEUTHIA," he manages.

ELEUTHIA is silent for a few moments. "I will," she says finally, quiet, and the Metal Devil shudders. The air shudders with it, a creaking rush and groan that stirs Varl's furs as it moves around him. Light and shadow dart across him as the Metal Devil's many legs flash past, and he plants his feet more firmly against the shaking of stone. His head tilts back, watching the great torso hurtle past, until at last the ridge is bathed in sunlight again. The Metal Devil scurries over the ridge and down the sloping western face of the mountain, ungainly but quick, and Varl is left with only the inactive servitor for company.

At this height and angle, without ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil blocking the view, he can see the one that approaches. It's deceptively small at this distance, but even from here, Varl can tell how fast it moves for its size, following a wide valley that leads up to All-Mother Mountain. But ELEUTHIA moves fast too, and his eyes track her. For a few moments, she's lost to his sight when the swells of the mountainside conceals her, but soon enough, a shadow emerges from the foot of the mountain on its southwest side, scuttling towards the oncoming beast.

When they clash down in the valley, he hears it - a muffled, distant clang that sits oddly on mountain winds. He can only imagine the racket up close, and he wonders if the Nora below can hear it as well. At this distance, Varl can only see wild writhing, made almost comically small by the distance. The two Metal Devils seem to blend with each other, and he can hardly distinguish between ELEUTHIA's limbs and the enemy's. It makes it that much harder to watch, but his gaze remains rooted on the fight, desperately seeking to parse it out anyway.

That is, until his head is drawn to the right, to the northwest. To something moving at the very edge of his gaze. He's not consciously aware of noticing it, not even aware of turning. Awareness hits him like a blow to the head only when he sees it.

Varl takes a few running steps higher up the ridge to get a better view, hand going to his Focus faster than his thoughts do. "Sylens. Metal Devil, to the northwest. ELEUTHIA's busy with one to the southeast."

A few seconds pass, and then Sylens's voice comes through. "HADES isn't finished," Sylens says grimly. "Where is it heading?"

Varl tracks the movements of the creature, observes the single-minded way it tears across the landscape, cresting over and dipping down the hills that lay beyond the sprawling mountain. Drifting further east with every arched stride of its spindly legs. Circling. "The Cradle," he whispers.

At the moment, he has no connection to the facility, to his mother. They'd decided it was best to remove their Focuses from the facility's network, so as not to light up a path that would draw enemy attention to the Nora. But the Metal Devil angles for the Cradle anyway, and Varl knows that it isn't possible for the Nora to have finished relocating. At the very least, there will be braves down in Mother's Watch. His mother.

Another long pause, then: "ELEUTHIA will have to deal with that one too," Sylens says, and Varl suddenly hates the way the man sounds so cold and detached when he talks.

"Can't HADES work any faster?" Varl demands.

"That is not possible," HADES cuts in, and Varl hates him all over again, too.

He looks to the southwest again and sees ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil still locked in combat. Even from here, the viciousness of it is evident, titanic legs tearing at opposing bodies, at the valley floor. If ELEUTHIA takes on two Metal Devils at the same time, there's no guarantee that she'll win. The Metal Devil to the northwest is close enough that he can make out its individual legs carving a path forward, and there's no guarantee that ELEUTHIA can even reach it before it hits the eastern side of the mountain. Varl can't even contact her to ask.

He looks behind, at the servitor.

A calmness enters Varl, nothing like the anticipation of battle. He thinks of the Nora below, who have already suffered so much, of ELEUTHIA, who worries over him for the slightest things, of Aloy, whose trust in him brought to them the only things that can save them. He thinks of Sona, who has already lost a child, and he thinks of Vala and wonders what it would be like to see her again. Then it hits him like a blow, the realization that he doesn't know anymore. He knows what All-Mother really is now, and for it he traded the certainty that those who pass on go to rest in her embrace.

He doesn't know what waits beyond death, if Vala does, or if she simply no longer exists. It freezes him for a moment, leaves his mind buzzing and blank. But the Metal Devil to the northwest flashes in the sunlight as it reaches the very end of the All-Mother Mountain's long slope, its screeching approach an echo both distant and growing, and there is no time left to contemplate the hereafter.

But one thing remains true, for Vala, for Varl: there is no better death.

Varl takes a breath and brings a finger to his Focus. It follows his thoughts and gives him what he needs, even though he isn't quite sure how to word it. The glyphs etch themselves into the air for him.

> _Request direct network connection?_

He approves it with a flick of a finger, and the Focus sends the request. Varl knows that invisible signals carrying his title are traveling through the air, towards the Metal Devil.

Broadcasting the location of a Zero Dawn Alpha.

For a moment, he fears that it isn't enough, that the creature - or whatever is controlling it - will still find the Cradle to be a much more tempting target. But the Metal Devil adjusts its course almost at once, no longer angling east with the goal of circling the mountainside. It heads south now. Towards Varl.

Varl's fingers sweep through the Focus field once more, before he pulls it off and turns.

Devoid of false skin and hologram, deteriorated to the point that its original personality no longer exists, the servitor is only a faceless metal imitation of a human body. It stands as blank and empty as the late autumn sky, awaiting the commands of the system it was built for. And, in the absence of ELEUTHIA, awaiting the orders of Alpha Eleuthia.

Varl has only one command for it, entered into his Focus, now attached to the side of the servitor's head: run.

* * *

The footsteps echoing against the strange metal floors of All-Mother's heart have all been hesitant, shuffling, and Sona does her level best to hold her patience and her tongue. Hers is a constant shuffle between the heart, the temple, and Mother's Watch, welcoming and directing groups as they arrive. Elders and lesser matriarchs assist her in Mother's Watch, and the High Matriarchs assist her in the temple, but it's Sona to whom eyes are continually drawn. To the glowing device attached to her head, to the way the depths of All-Mother's heart respond to her.

Lines of light ripple in Sona's vision every time she turns the Focus on. It tells her things in script both familiar and foreign, written in the same light, and she's learned to brush it away and clear her vision, her fingers commanding light just as her voice commands the tribe. Light that no one else can see, Sona thinks. For her eyes alone, a sign of All-Mother's power. A sign that Sona, too, has been blessed by the Goddess.

It doesn't sit entirely right, no matter how glad she is to be of use to the Goddess in such a dire time. Something is missing, pieces absent from the whole that Sona keeps trying to build in her mind. There are things that Varl and Aloy have not told her, that All-Mother has chosen not to voice. Of that, Sona is certain. She just can't determine what those things are.

At times, during quiet moments waiting for the next group, she runs a finger over the Focus, tracing its edges.  _None of it is what you think,_  Varl had said.  _The Metal World was once All-Mother's world._

It feels as if a greater understanding is right at Sona's fingertips, if only she reaches a little farther, looks a little deeper into the All-Mother's heart or into the Focus. She has no space for that, however, between ushering the Nora into the heart and coordinating with her braves, who keep watchful eyes on all horizons. Her heart has little room for it as well, consumed with the urgency silently demanding that each group quicken their steps and begging Varl to hurry, to come back safely.

He walks with All-Mother's blessing, in a world that Sona doesn't share even though the Focus glows against her head, and it feels as if he's walked there for a long time now, though she doesn't know when he slipped past her. When he grew into the man telling her that vengeance belongs to him too, that he's meant to face the Metal Devils above. It was sometime in the haze of their grieving, she supposes, in the fog of battles to preserve their very existence.

But Sona keeps her doubts and her fears to herself, and her mouth dries out with the many assurances she utters, over and over again. This is All-Mother's will, her heart is the only stronghold against the Metal Devils that will come, her blessing protects them all from the taint of metal, and she brings change and revelation that will be explained in due time if only the Nora keep faith a little longer.

The last group from Mother's Heart makes their slow way into the temple and into the heart, and after a quick word with one of the braves that had escorted them, Sona pushes her way through them, leaving the heart. She keeps her steps unhurried and nods to every pair of eyes that meets hers as she does, but eyes follow her nonetheless, wondering.

Sona steps through the door onto the platform outside, pausing to let her gaze sweep the Great Chamber. Candlelight illuminates dozens of bodies jostling for space, clustered around the High Matriarch at their center, who speaks continually, reassuringly. Teersa only breaks off when she catches Sona's eye, and then she excuses herself from the crowd, urging them to remain calm and listen to the elder who organizes them into a line and sends them through the door in smaller groups.

There's no private place left in the temple, so Sona waits on the far edge the platform, which is at least something that the people are hesitant to approach. Teersa takes a look at her face and then takes her elbow and crowds in close, bending in to listen.

"The group from Mother's Rise was supposed to meet up with them," Sona murmurs, jerking her head to the people trickling in from Mother's Heart. "They never did."

Teersa's face grows troubled. "You've heard nothing from the braves?"

Sona shakes her head. "It's far enough that I only sent a few with the elder." A decision she's beginning to regret, though she'd meant to strengthen the numbers of the two groups against the hostile machines still left roaming the world by having them meet at a halfway point. "We're stretched thin as it is. I-"

Her next words are halted by a sudden commotion,  a stirring of voices and bodies, a ripple that runs through the line leading into All-Mother's heart. A shout emanates from the heart, muffled at first, and then distinct and male and panicky. The people at the door start back, scattering, and Sona turns and steps forward as a man bursts out of the door.

"This is a trick!" he says, stumbling to a halt in the center of the platform and staring about wildly. His eyes fall on Sona and Teersa, and he takes a few steps towards them, eyes wide. "This isn't... this is a machine!" He gestures towards the heart. "A curse! This isn't All-Mother's will!"

The line stirs again as murmuring rises from the crowd, and Jezza emerges from the door as well. She holds out a placating hand. "My dear, please..." She glances at Teersa and Sona for a moment, and her gaze speaks clearly - her reassurances hadn't worked.

The man swats her hand away. "No!" he says, taking another few steps forward. "You've all been duped!"

Sona meets him squarely, and the man comes to an abrupt halt, staggering back a little. "You think you know better than the High Matriarchs?" she asks coldly. The murmuring, steadily growing under the man's overwrought voice, quiets when she speaks. "Than the Anointed? Than All-Mother herself?"

"That wasn't All-Mother!" the man insists hotly, and the muttering rises up again, louder, shocked.

"How would you know?" Sona asks, as calm and cold as before, silencing the crowd once more. She has no time to let this man upset the rest of the populace. Not when a settlement's population is missing, and Mother's Crown lies even further beyond, their group presumably on the way, and she has no idea what's delayed the group from Mother's Rise or when the greater threat is coming. "You didn't see her."

The man gestures towards the front of the temple. "High Matriarch Lansra once said that the Anointed was a curse! She may have taken it back, but she was right! All-Mother has been cursed, and you don't see it!"

The murmuring becomes rumble, and Sona grits her teeth. As if summoned from her position at the temple's entrance, Lansra herself appears in the opening to the chamber, and the crowd parts for her. Despite the shred of respect that Sona has maintained for the woman's matrilineal line, she gives Lansra the most imperious warning look that she dares. They don't need her hindrance  _or_  her help. Not now, not when Sona needs to see to Mother's Rise.

Lansra hesitates, and Teersa moves in. "I know that none of this is what you expect," she says, stepping around Sona, looking first to the man and then to the crowd. "What any of you expect. But you have seen the truth with your own eyes, even if you have not seen the Goddess. You have seen the Anointed's power over the machines. How she's made them fight for her and calmed so many of them. Is it so difficult to believe that they were once All-Mother's long ago? That she seeks to remove the curse from the Metal World and make it ours, as it was meant to be?" Teersa draws herself up, and the eyes of the crowd are riveted on her. "All-Mother gave us her heart to protect us, and we must take care of ourselves now and embrace this new knowledge that she brings us, not run from it! To run invites the Metal Devils to destroy us."

The man stares at Teersa, but Sona can see in his eyes that he's still lost amid his imaginings. He's going to keep arguing, keep agitating the crowd, keep wasting Sona's time, and at any moment, Metal Devils could come. She takes a step forward, and the man instinctively moves back a little, but before Sona can try again, Teersa's last statement becomes prescient.

Dust trickles down from the stone above as the claw of the Metal Devil looming over their heads shifts. Sona's head snaps up as she whirls around, one hand reaching out to push Teersa behind her as the other goes for her spear. Cries rise from the crowd, accompanied by a creak that shivers down Sona's spine. The individual appendages of the claw twitch one at a time, another and another and another in an undulating wave, and Sona stares up at them, her fingers so tight around the spear that they hurt.

But a spear is nothing to something that enormous, and Sona closes her eyes for a second, resignation settling into her bones, wearying her far more than the lack of sleep. If the Metal Devil moves on its own, if Varl isn't behind it, then the path before Sona is clear. Get as many of the crowd through the door as she can before the claw can reach further in, before the rest of the Metal Devil can join it, and then seal the heart as Varl and All-Mother had instructed. After that, do everything she can to draw the Metal Devil away from the Nora who remain outside.

Then Sona remembers that Varl had given her the Focus, that All-Mother had enabled her to commune with the mountain, because they expect her to stay with it. The clear path in Sona's mind becomes hazy, divergent, and her eyes slide open, fixing on the claw again.

Teersa's hand clutches at Sona's arm. "Have faith," the Matriarch whispers, but despite the confidence in her words, it is only a whisper.

The claw twitches again, a violent movement that has people instinctively ducking for cover, scattering, leaving a wide space open underneath it, and then it stills. Sona waits for the worst, hardly breathing, but the claw does not move again. After several long moments, in which the only thing that moves is flickering candlelight and opposing shadows, the tension in the chamber begins to dissipate, people releasing taut breaths and tight grips on loved ones. Eyes begin to return to the platform, to Sona, to Teersa, to the man who stands petrified and silent now.

Teersa smiles widely, gesturing up at the claw. "You see?" she tells the crowd, tells the man. "All-Mother protects."

Sona turns to face the man again. "If you wish," she says, making sure her voice carries, ignoring the stirring of pity she feels at the look on his face, "you may remain outside."

He doesn't want to, of course, and when he returns to the heart with Jezza's soothing words and hands guiding him, the rest of the crowd's tension seems to melt away. Sona knows that many of the people entering the heart are probably thinking similar things, but their fear of greater machines keeps them quiet. So far, it's been working, and so far, the outburst hasn't caused a worse panic. Sona can only hope it stays that way. There are other concerns now weighing on her mind, and as the last of the inhabitants of Mother's Heart make their way through the door, she pulls Teersa aside.

"High Matriarch," Sona says, then stops. She takes a breath, then starts again. "I need guidance."

Teersa's eyes are kind. Her hand finds Sona's arm again, squeezing reassuringly. "That is why I have always favored the choice of you as War-Chief," she says. "You are not afraid to ask for it."

Sona dips her head to acknowledge the compliment and abruptly becomes aware of Lansra watching them still, lingering near the chamber's opening. Another complication to add to her pile of them - she doesn't want to leave Teersa without a firm voice as backup. Firmer than Jezza, at least. But she balks at the thought of sending more braves in her stead when others are missing. That is not how a War-Chief acts. "All-Mother gave me command of her heart," Sona says. "Duty would demand that I stay with it. But I have a duty to my braves and the rest of the tribe as well. I fear something has happened to the group from Mother's Rise."

"And you wish to go yourself," Teersa finishes for her.

Sona nods. The choice, the path ahead, should be obvious, should be All-Mother's will above all else, but Sona can hardly bring herself to admit the doubt that clouds it. And she doesn't know how to voice the strangest sense she has that All-Mother herself would not agree.

Teersa takes her time in answering, fixing her eyes first on Sona and then on the open door that leads into All-Mother's heart. Her eyes slide over Lansra in between, and Sona is aware of the other Matriarch disappearing back towards the front of the temple. "I fear no other group will get here before the Metal Devils come," Teersa says at length, grave. "Perhaps it would be safer to seal the door now." Sona's eyebrows shoot up at the apparent pessimism, so different from what she's come to expect from Teersa, but the Matriarch gives her a pointed look. "I suppose someone will have to remain on the outside to let in anyone who finds their way here."

Understanding settles in Sona, a clearing of the fog so sudden that it startles her. She almost smiles.

" _That_  is your duty," Teersa continues, solemn. "I'm certain that is within the scope of what All-Mother meant. I think we can manage inside without you."

Sona dips her head again, in thanks, but she glances at the door, considering another uncertainty not settled, one that keeps her from leaving immediately. The heart answers to her, and her eyes trace the frame of its door, contemplating all that she has seen of what lies beyond it. The way it responds to her voice when prompted, speaking in ways she can't always follow. "I would give command of the heart to you," she says, and when Teersa nods her acquiescence, Sona takes a few steps forward to stand in the center of the platform and turns her Focus on.

For a moment, she stands silent, watching the lines of light shimmer and contemplating her choice of words. The heart can't always follow her, either. "I wish to give High Matriarch Teersa the same rank that I have," she says at length, speaking louder.

Though the voice of the heart sometimes speaks only into Sona's ear, through her Focus, here it speaks aloud, echoing throughout the chamber. The candle flames shiver.  _"Error. Alpha clearance can only be granted by Alpha Prime or governing system."_

That clearly doesn't mean Sona. She deliberates once more, all too aware of Teersa watching her closely. At least Lansra is gone. "Is there any way you will answer to someone else?"

A pause stretches out, feeling longer than it is, and then the voice responds.  _"Beta clearance can be granted by Alpha personnel."_

Sona nods absently a few times, relieved that the heart had understood her. "And this... this Beta clearance, you can give it to the High Matriarch?" she asks, gesturing to the woman behind her.

" _Processing_ ," the voice says.  _"To initiate, state name and rank."_

"Sona," she says in reply, feeling inordinately pleased. It's getting easier to communicate with the heart, with All-Mother's world. "Alpha Aether."

The red light that Sona has come to associate with Aloy and Varl, that shines for her now too, appears and extends from the center of the door, enveloping Teersa, who watches rapt and intent. Teersa stirs as the light touches her, raising her arms a little to watch the light billow over them and retreat.  _"Genetic profile scanned. Add to Beta Registry?"_

"Yes," Sona says. Even though she doesn't know exactly what it's saying, she's certain that it's the right thing, that she has a good sense of the heart now even if full understanding eludes her.

_"Processing. State name and rank."_

Teersa moves forward to Sona's side, her shining eyes sweeping over the door. She goes to speak, then stops and glances at Sona. "Rank?"

_"Error. Statement not processed. Please repeat."_

Sona frowns. She watches the flickering shadows play out across the walls on either side of the door. "... Is there a way for you to give her a rank?"

 _"Processing."_  It's followed by the longest pause yet, and Sona begins to itch with impatience, thoughts of Mother's Rise and her braves becoming more insistent.  _"Beta Eleuthia slots are available."_

Sona exhales a little and nods to Teersa, who hesitates a moment longer, then says, "Teersa, Beta Eleuthia."

_"Genetic profile added to Beta Registry. Greetings, Teersa."_

Teersa stares up at the door, wonder in the lines of her face. There's an element of confusion there as well, something that Sona recognizes. Teersa, too, can sense that there are things deliberately kept concealed by Aloy and Varl and the Goddess, that there is more going on than either of them understand. But a moment later, Teersa's face settles into a quiet kind of satisfaction and acceptance. She is able to tolerate the unknown well, perhaps better than Sona can, and she trusts All-Mother's will to guide her through it.

"There is a cache of these within the heart," Sona says, drawing Teersa's attention and lifting a finger to indicate her Focus. "I assume you will need one in order to speak freely with it."

When Sona goes, she leaves Teersa without the War-Chief's voice as backup. But perhaps the voice of the Goddess - of this machine servant of hers - will do just as well.

* * *

Varl hears it and feels it when the Metal Devil strikes wherever the servitor managed to reach. The mountain shakes, and the air reverberates with a booming, clanging explosion of metal on stone. From the highest peak, Varl's eyes sweep the mountainside, assessing for places where the slope is flattest, where he can run if necessary. The western slope of the mountain, like the eastern slope, is flat enough to walk in many places, but parts of it are too steep for anything but climbing.

In the distance, he sees that the battle between ELEUTHIA and the other Metal Devil is no longer so violent. But there is no time to pay attention, and he turns.

The Metal Devil writhes below, and Varl knows that it's crushing the servitor between its claws. In anger or in true confusion, he doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. He hadn't expected the servitor to be able to outrun and outclimb the Metal Devil on its way down. He'd only needed it to buy him a little more time, enough to reach the peak, and it had. He sends it silent thanks as he watches the Metal Devil cease its writhing, as the creature's head begins to lift, aware of the deception. Searching.

He can't give it time to shift its attention back towards the Cradle, so Varl cups his hands around his mouth, takes a breath, and bellows, " _Here!_ "

His voice carries on the mountain winds, multiplied by the curve of the stone, and the Metal Devil's head lifts higher. It moves methodically, sweeping, then abruptly locks onto him. Varl can see no eyes set into its insect-like face - only a glowing core in its open mouth.

At the sight of it, of the massive, rumbling thing below that zeroes in on him with malice that Varl can see even without his Focus, terror shoots up Varl's spine, fueled by the sudden, acute awareness of what he's just done. It wants to freeze him like ice to the stone, wants to wait for those claws to reach him, for the inevitable.

But Varl turns and runs.

Every moment, he expects the worst. For his footing to slip and his dash to become a deathly tumble. For gigantic metal claws to seize him and end his life in an instant. The world without a Focus is bigger and darker and more dangerous, empty where it could sketch out the safest path in bright light, empty without ELEUTHIA's voice in his ear. But Varl doesn't fall as he darts down a ridge that slopes southwest. He gets lower every chance he has, jumping down to other ridges, to outcroppings, to flatter parts of the slope, to natural paths in the stone. Behind him, the shrieking onslaught of the Metal Devil grows, a thunder of metal and crushed stone, but nothing grabs Varl. Not yet. 

He chances a glance forward on a particularly flat ridge and sees ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil hurtling back through the valley towards the mountain, nearly at its foot. The relief nearly upsets his balance, but he looks back down and concentrates on his steps, tasting something bittersweet and tight in the back of his throat.

Even if she's too late for him, the Nora will be safe.

The louder the crescendo behind him gets, the less he's able to think. His vision narrows, and his world centers on the rock beneath his feet, on where he takes the next step, on whether he jumps or not. He can't even hear his own breathing anymore. It's swallowed up by the screaming metal behind him, the booming bursts of rock smashed and splintered. The stone is trembling again, and he knows that death is waiting in the next few steps.

Something moves just ahead, something tremendous that reverberates through the stone and nearly upsets his balance again, but his conscious mind can't work out what it is, too consumed with staying upright. Something registers it, however, something that pushes him a little harder, a little faster, that guides his movements with all of the months he'd spent in the Cradle, in ELEUTHIA's company.

The flat slope suddenly drops away for a crumbled crater that stretches out deep below, a steep, long escarpment that would barely even allow for climbing, a part of the mountain he hadn't meant to angle for until he lost all sense of direction except forward. Until that deeper instinct had driven him towards it.

Without needing to think, Varl jumps.

The metal of ELEUTHIA's back rises to greet him as she shoves her Metal Devil closer against the mountainside, and the drop is only several feet. Varl lands and nearly loses his footing, his ankle twisting inward. But he doesn't feel the jolt that shoots up his right leg. His mind goes backwards, to his Proving, and he lets it take over as he recovers his balance.

A few years ago, he ran across the legs of the Metal Devil on the other side of the mountain, and he runs across the spine of another now, vaulting its ridges and turrets. Its back slopes down and trembles, and at a few points, he has to slide and grasp wildly at any jutting metal to keep from tumbling off when it thrashes. But ELEUTHIA holds as steady as she can, and he doesn't know what it's costing her until he finally reaches the Metal Devil's narrow tail end and leaps off, rolling when he hits the bottom of the crater.

Varl is now distantly aware of a shooting pain radiating up from his ankle, one that keeps him from getting to his feet, but he spins around, scrabbling backwards as he does, sucking in as much air as he can as his hands scrape over stone. ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil forms a metal mountain slope, vast and sprawling above him, but its legs flail, front ones caught against and desperately trying to hold back the other Metal Devil that now towers above it, trying to pin it to the escarpment.

The enemy drills down and hammers, and Varl is aware of himself crying out, breathless and choking. But his ankle throbs, and his spent lungs burn, and he can do nothing. ELEUTHIA had given up height and time and advantage to see him safely to the ground, and now he can't help her as the Metal Devil above hers pins her to the stone. He can't even talk to her anymore.

Then a shadow rises up to block the midday sun, and in Varl's dizzy sight, it seems to consume the sky. But it condenses and swoops down, scuttling jerkily over the highest peak of All-Mother Mountain, and when Varl blinks, the shadow solidifies into another Metal Devil, one that descends clumsily upon the enemy Metal Devil from above. Chunks and pebbles of rock rain down all around Varl, but he sits frozen, staring up at the titanic fight tearing into All-Mother Mountain's southwestern slope. It's all he can see, all he can hear, a deafening swell of sound that Varl feels vibrating in his very skin.

The two Metal Devils above and below tear into the third, now helplessly caught in the middle. No longer pinned, ELEUTHIA's machine surges upward, striking with speed and vengeance. The sound of those claws drilling into the enemy's insides is both the best and worst thing that Varl has ever heard, and he almost bites through his tongue when he flinches at it. The other Metal Devil does the same, and soon enough, the one in the middle collapses with a tremor that shakes the mountainside.

The clatter of falling debris becomes a drizzle, then nothing.

Varl leans back on trembling arms and aching palms and gazes up. The dead Metal Devil sags, threatening to slide back down into the crater, but Varl feels no fear. There's an indistinct whine in his ears, and his ankle throbs, and it feels like he can't get air into his lungs quickly enough. But in between gasps, a wide, incredulous grin spreads across his face as he watches the two Metal Devils begin to clumsily drag the third to a higher, flatter part of the slope.

* * *

Sona does not go back when she hears the thunder. Even at this distance, it trembles on the air, something that Sona feels as much as hears, and it halts her steps and turns her head. By the time she's found a better view between the trees, there is only one Metal Devil left atop the mountain, its coiling legs still visible, marking the location of the Proving grounds. The other is gone, and since no great machine has descended upon Mother's Watch or the temple, Sona lets herself hope.

The few braves left with her remain in Mother's Watch, to protect any Nora that may arrive before Sona gets back. It will have to be enough.

Varl's face hovers in Sona's mind as she stares back at the mountain, and Vala's joins it, but with a forceful shake of her head, Sona turns back towards the road. At a jog, she takes the winding path around rock outcroppings that dot the Embrace. The sun dips a little past its highest point in the sky, bringing a touch of warmth to the late autumn chill, but Sona feels colder with every step. By the time she reaches the stream and the bridge, the thunder behind her has risen and quieted again, and though she tells herself not to look back, she turns back once more and again seeks out a better view, just in time to see the last Metal Devil atop the mountain clambering haphazardly over the peak and disappearing to its western side.

The sight roots her to the ground, her mind struggling to comprehend the idea of All-Mother's long-dead foe alive once more. She doesn't know what it means, that it climbed to the other side of the mountain, but she can hazard a few guesses, and she turns her thoughts away from all of them. What she does know for certain is that it's several hours of a hard walk to Mother's Rise, and she doesn't have that kind of time.

Sona stops when she reaches the end of the bridge, scanning the grove through which the road continues. Soon enough, she catches sight of a familiar blue light between the shadows of the trees, and her hand itches to go to her spear. But she masters the instinct and walks forward cautiously, leaving the road, and the distinctive outline of a watcher becomes visible as she slips through the trees. Even though she moves stealthily, avoiding every cluster of fallen leaves, the watcher turns at her approach, long neck followed by body, and its head rears up and back.

No red light overtakes blue. The watcher stares at her, and Sona stops and stares back, expecting it to warble a warning to the striders ahead and then herd them away, as the machines used to long ago and as most of them do again. But the watcher remains still and then, to her surprise, relaxes. It ambles forward at its usual methodical pace, tail swaying, and another appears from behind a tree. Both approach Sona, and she holds herself still, fighting back every instinct to lunge for her spear and make short work of them.

The watchers stop in front of her. Their heads tilt in unison, and they chirp.

Sona takes a breath, then reaches forward. Her hand halts in front of the closest watcher, and she gazes into its blue eye, at the three glowing points within. The watcher chirps again, then juts its head forward gently. Its lens brushes against her fingertips.

Not to be outdone, its partner circles around and juts its head forward similarly, against Sona's upper arm.

Sona hesitates. She doesn't remember the docile machines of old behaving in such a way. Usually they would run, but these... these act as if they know her.

The machines had once belonged to the Goddess, Aloy had said, and Sona is seeing the truth of that more and more.

She takes a cautious step forward, and the watcher in front of her moves aside, letting her pass. Both of them trail behind her as she walks through the grove. She moves openly now, and when a strider plods into her sight between two rock outcroppings, she doesn't stop. As she expects, the strider approaches her as the watchers had. Sunlight dapples its silver and black sides, outlining the shadows of leaves still left on the trees, and Sona stops only when she's face-to-face with it.

She reaches out again, ghosting her fingers over one of the metal protrusions that line the sides of the strider's face, staring at its two vertical blue eyes. It stares back placidly, waiting, and a private smile tugs at the sides of Sona's mouth despite everything.

All-Mother protects, and All-Mother provides.

When she mounts, the strider's legs prance a few times, adjusting to her weight. But it settles and turns at her lightest touch, needing only the barest guidance.

Sona gazes after the watchers that resume their patrol around the rest of the herd, then taps the strider's sides with her boots. It breaks out into a trot, and when she leans lower, it goes faster and faster, responding to her wishes. The Embrace flashes by now, ground covered in seconds that would take minutes otherwise, and Sona and her strider follow the long winding road towards the main Embrace gate.

* * *

ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil settles at floor of the crater, a creaking, trembling, hasty affair made ungainly by the way she creeps around the edge of the crater and moves carefully around Varl. He sits more or less where he'd landed, still trying to catch his breath, not quite ready to get to his feet. His ankle throbs, and his sides and his palms ache, and here, lower on the mountainside, the Metal Devil seems even bigger. This close, all he can see is its bulk, its massive arms twisting forward to curl in an enormous semi-circle around him as its head and torso sink lower.

Taking a bracing breath, Varl gets to his feet. He winces when he puts weight on his right leg, and a sudden shuffling of metal and rock nearly startles him out of his delicate balance. One of the Metal Devil's legs slides closer, awkwardly inching up to him, until Varl is able to reach out and touch it. He does so gratefully, limping a little closer, placing a hand against the leg and leaning his weight against it so that he can ease his right foot off of the ground. The leg is taller than he is, the curve of its metal rising above him, and it's cold, but he feels the life vibrating within it, the energy running through its channels. The coolness of the metal is a welcome relief for his scraped palm.

The head settles a little lower, as close to Varl as it can manage. He's engulfed in shadow once more, one that stretches past him, long and large. He looks up at the head, at its strange insect-like shape, at the sharp appendages jutting from underneath, watching and listening as gears begin to turn. They hiss as they do, as the thing's lower jaw slowly drops, and Varl sees the Metal Devil's core within its mouth, bigger than he is.

A voice booms from above, projected into the air, loud and panicked.

"I could not find you," ELEUTHIA says, rapid and pitched higher than usual. "I could not find your Focus signal. I believed you were dead until I located your heat signature." Though her distress is palpable, her tone is flat, rhythmic, like it is when she delivers information. "I believed you were dead." The claw at the end of the leg grinds its individual appendages against each other, the motion shuddering under Varl's hand, and he can hear the other claws moving similarly. "I believed you were dead."

Varl runs his hand over the metal of the leg, noticing how just one section of it is bigger than he is. "I'm okay," he says. "I'm right here, ELEUTHIA."

The Metal Devil's claws cease their grinding, and the shuddering under Varl's fingers stills.

"I needed a little more time," Varl says calmly. "I put the Focus on your servitor to distract it from me." He pauses, feeling an odd sort of loss. Aloy had given him that Focus all those months ago, and he'd spent so much time with ELEUTHIA helping to repair the servitor. "They're probably destroyed now."

"There are others," ELEUTHIA says at once, mechanical in delivery. Stressed.

At a loss for how to reassure her further, Varl rubs his fingers over the leg of the machine once more. "I know." He moves a thumb back and forth, feeling a sudden distance, a gap between the two of them that he can't bridge. He can't embrace her like he would another human, and without the servitor, contact like this doesn't feel the same. He can't even see her light without his Focus, though he knows her pink must be twining somewhere throughout the Metal Devil's frame.

"The Nora," ELEUTHIA says. Rarely does she fail to complete a sentence, but she doesn't need to.

"They're safe," Varl assures her. As safe as they can be, until more Metal Devils come.

"This form is not equipped to perform iatric scans," ELEUTHIA continues. "However, the ligaments of your right talocrural joint are emanating excess heat, indicating inflammation. You are injured."

Varl looks down. His leg is concealed by stitched furs, leather, and machine parts, but if he were to remove his boots, he knows he'd find swelling and bruising radiating out from the joint. "An ankle sprain," he says. "That's it." He's broken bones before, and he hadn't been able to put weight on them. He can walk on this, even though it sends sparks of pain up his leg when he tries.

The fact that it's the extent of his injuries, aside from the scrapes along his palms, is a staggering thing to consider. Once, Varl might have said that All-Mother was watching over him, and his eyes return to the leg of the Metal Devil, follow its curve up to its torso, its torso up to its head hovering close above him.

Perhaps that's still more true than he thinks.

"You must compress and elevate your ankle," ELEUTHIA says insistently. Though she still speaks quickly, her voice is steadier, less high and back to its usual pitch. "Ice would also be of benefit, and you must not put too much weight on it until it is healed. I would prefer if you took the precaution of splinting it as well, in case of fracture."

Varl keeps his sigh to himself. "We'll get to that," he says. There's hardly time for it now.

More clanging reverberates through the crater, and Varl turns, looking past the looping curves of ELEUTHIA's other legs. The other Metal Devil eases itself down the far end of the crater, but the area isn't big enough for two, and it ends up listing rather awkwardly off the edge of the crater. Its front legs brush up against the circle that ELEUTHIA's have formed. From here, Varl can tell that the Metal Devil isn't fully repaired; a few of its legs drag, and it doesn't move nearly as smoothly as ELEUTHIA's. But it settles, and from the creature's underside, a ramp extends, with just enough space to reach the crater's floor at a steep angle.

Several moments later, Sylens descends. He moves stiffly, carefully down the too-steep ramp, his face contorted in a grimace. When he reaches the ground, he stops, takes a few shaky steps back to reach out for the edge of the ramp, and steadies himself on it as he leans forward, almost doubled over.

Varl doesn't move, mindful of putting more weight on his ankle than he has to. "Are you alright?" he calls out.

After a few moments, Sylens lifts his head and straightens somewhat. He takes a deep breath, expression still queasy. "That," he mutters, just loud enough for Varl to hear, "was not a good idea."

Varl bites his lip, but they're alive, and two enemy Metal Devils are dead, and the smile slips out anyway.

"As for your idea," Sylens continues, walking forward, passing underneath the looping curves of the legs splayed out between them, looking Varl up and down as he enters the protective circle that ELEUTHIA has created with her Metal Devil's front legs, "I don't know whether to call it daring or stupid."

"Both," Varl says, and he returns the look before shifting his eyes up to the Metal Devil beyond. Though he has no Focus, he knows that red light is winding somewhere through it. "Thank you," he says, pitching his voice louder, and he glances back down at Sylens. "Both of you."

An uncomfortable moment of quiet passes, then: "I must finish repairs," HADES says brusquely. His voice echoes out of the Metal Devil and bounces off the crater's walls.

Sylens wears an inscrutable look as he nears. He comes to a stop in front of Varl and holds up a hand. "I made sure to take backups from the Cradle." Flourished between two fingers is a Focus. When Varl hesitates before taking it, Sylens rolls his eyes, releasing a sigh. "Your constant suspicion of my agenda is becoming tiresome."

Varl keeps one hand against the leg of ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil and wraps the fingers of his other hand around the Focus. His palm twinges as one of its edges digs into it. "Can you blame me?"

Sylens shrugs. "Is it not enough to know that we share the same agenda? I am getting what I want, after all. We will survive this, and APOLLO will be contained." It's a bit surprising to hear something close to optimism in Sylens's voice, and Varl doesn't know what to make of it, but before he can respond, Sylens waves a hand absently, indicating the Focus that Varl still grips, his tone becoming impatient. "Everyone is waiting on you."

Varl hurriedly attaches the Focus to his head, and the welcome sight of its web and lights unfolds for him, joining the network to which ELEUTHIA and HADES are now connected. Red coils in HADES's core nearby, pink in ELEUTHIA's above, and several figures carved out of light spring into being around him and Sylens, along with floating symbols - an orange flame, a purple tower, and a green leaf, beside their respective Alphas. A shimmering map extends around all of them, floating at Varl's waist, projecting numbers and images above it.

In the same instant, Varl's personal Focus display comes alight with dozens of uploaded files, transferring from ELEUTHIA: the contents of Varl's previous Focus, all copied and now safely restored to him. It seems Sylens isn't the only one keeping backups.

Even though ELEUTHIA had already informed them of everyone's status, Varl's eyes sweep over the holos, checking for himself. Aloy, Vanasha, Erend, Petra, and Talanah, just as ELEUTHIA had said, some of them injured and all looking exhausted, but alive. They wear odd bracers on their arms, which Varl figures must be Petra's design. Varl's gaze drops to the one on Talanah's arm, recalling what ELEUTHIA had said about GAIA requesting that Talanah be made Alpha Artemis, and then his eyes shift to the green leaf that floats near Erend.

At the center of them all stands GAIA, gleaming gold, who immediately gestures to the map, wasting no time. "Varl, ELEUTHIA, Sylens, HADES," she says. "You must go to the Spire at once. I assume that is AETHER and POSEIDON there, along with another Titan, and more will undoubtedly come, which means you will be outnumbered. That cannot be helped. However, your only objective is to deactivate the Spire by any means necessary. Once that is done, APOLLO and the others will have no backup, and the upper hand will be ours once again."

Varl's eyes drop to the map, finding the three tiny Metal Devils that hover near the Spire, floating just ahead of him.

"We would come to assist you, as we are closer," GAIA says, "but APOLLO approaches from the west with backup of his own." Varl's eyes shift to to the left, to the small moving Titans on the map's western edge. "We will intercept him and any other Titans that come from above us. You are on your own with any that come from below you. Fortunately, the Spire is not fully repaired."

MINERVA's purple tower flares. "The damage I inflicted on the broadcast tower cannot be repaired in a day," she says, satisfaction evident in the way she emphasizes the words. "Its range is limited to a small portion of the continent, and the broadcast must be constantly maintained."

"That means you only need to stop whoever's maintaining it," Vanasha adds.

GAIA nods. "Therefore, we will only have so many Titans to contend with," she continues, gesturing to several of the projected numbers above the map. "I do not have a concrete number at this time, as I believe some are still repairing, and due to the limitations of my modified stormbird unit, I will only be able to detect them when they move. But they are not infinite, and without sufficient materials, they cannot produce more of their brethren. Your fight will be hard, but not impossible."

The flame brightens. "My machines will assist you," HEPHAESTUS says. "I am sending more from my Cauldrons."

Petra taps at the side of her head, at her Focus. "Alpha clearance has already been transferred," she tells Varl with a single, firm nod. "The machines'll listen to you."

"We'll be able to stay in contact through the Titans' network," Aloy adds. The lance with the master override is gripped tightly in her left hand, and Varl's gaze fixes on it. "MINERVA and GAIA are keeping APOLLO from listening, so it's safe. We'll let you know if anything changes, and this," her free hand gestures to the holographic map, "will stay updated. It'll tell you if any more Metal Devils are coming."

The rush, the lightness of victory is fading. Varl's ankle twinges again, his body heavier, full of deeper aches. He takes the information in, eyes on the map, thinking about how close the battle here had been. How much damage the Metal Devil could have done had it reached Mother's Watch, how ELEUTHIA might have lost had HADES not arrived. How close Varl had come to death. The question slips out of him before he can stop it. "What happens if we fail?"

Silence answers him. Varl notices that the ringing whine in his ears is not so loud anymore.

"I have been considering alternative plans," GAIA says after a few seconds. She speaks calmly, and Varl finds it difficult to meet her eyes. But he does. Through her, he sees the wall of the crater, the coils of the Metal Devils' legs, tinted gold. "Ways to destroy the Titans instead of deactivating them. This is merely the least destructive route. If it fails, there are other options."

Varl considers asking what that means, but decides against it. His fingers convulse against the leg of the Metal Devil, finding no purchase on its cold metal. "We can do it," he says, trying to shake off the rush of pessimism that had gripped him. He meets Aloy's eyes as he speaks, getting a tiny smile in return. There's so much that he wants to say to her, but not here, not now.

"We will not fail," ELEUTHIA says, and Varl feels the leg tremble.

He looks to the side, to Sylens next. Sylens, too, looks to Aloy, and Varl can't quite name what passes between them. Aloy doesn't look so angry anymore, however. Her face is drawn, solemn. "Any means necessary," she murmurs, echoing GAIA, speaking only to Sylens.

Sylens's head tilts a little, regarding her, something impenetrable in his expression. But his mouth twitches, and he inclines his head.

Then Aloy turns to Varl, giving him another tight smile. She doesn't tell him the same thing, and he doesn't know whether to be grateful or not.

"Good luck," Erend says fervently.

A single moment of hesitation stretches out long, and Varl is aware of the cold mountain air on his skin, of his throbbing ankle and scraped palms, of the constant droning of the Metal Devils, of the lights that make up the others' forms flickering in the shadow of ELEUTHIA's Metal Devil enclosing them all. He knows this isn't a goodbye yet. Metal Devils are fast, distances that would take days on foot crossed in much less time, but it'll still be a few hours, and they'll have constant contact in the meantime.

But something about this seems final. A point from which they can't return.

The realization hits Varl, abrupt and disquieting - he'll be leaving the Sacred Land. He'll be leaving the Sacred Land  _undefended_. The thought is almost enough to stop him entirely, to push him to demand another way, but he looks to the map and sees no active Metal Devils nearby and closes his eyes momentarily, steeling himself. He's done what he can, and he can't ask ELEUTHIA to stay behind, not when they are already outnumbered. And if he stays behind, he won't be able to do much for anyone besides cower behind the Cradle's door. But out there, where the fight is... he can help. Not physically, perhaps, but swinging a spear is not all that braves are good for.

Then Sylens turns, breaking the fleeting stillness that had descended upon them, glancing up at the red light high above him as he heads back towards the ramp. "Well," he says lightly, shooting an impatient look over his shoulder in Varl's direction, "are you going to stand there until we die?"

Varl pointedly ignores him and leans back a little, pressing against the Metal Devil's leg to glance up at the core glowing above. ELEUTHIA's pink light is a welcome sight, one that steadies his nerves. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it in that short time.

"If you need," Aloy says, in a way that makes Varl think she'll be calling him up first, "I'll be listening."

Varl nods, and when ELEUTHIA ends the holo, the crater and the mountain and the Metal Devils seem larger, colder. The whir from within ELEUTHIA's machine grows, and Varl straightens and steps back a bit, moving gingerly. He watches the Metal Devil's legs uncurl and its torso rise mechanically, enough to allow the ramp to extend from underneath. Sylens has already disappeared back into HADES's Metal Devil, and Varl watches its ramp rise as ELEUTHIA's lowers.

"Varl," ELEUTHIA says urgently, drawing his attention back. "You must tend to your ankle."

Varl looks up at the core one more time, at the pink aura suffusing it. He wonders what the inside of a Metal Devil looks like, though all he needs is a place to sit for a while. He takes a limping step, then hesitates, eyes once again drawn up to the Metal Devil's bulk, sweeping over what he can see of it. He hadn't even balked at the thought of touching it or entering it, he realizes. And he still doesn't.

"I will," he says, taking slow steps up the ramp, into the shadowed interior of the machine.


	16. Chapter 16

> **FROM: Charles Ronson  
>  ****TO: Elisabet Sobeck**  
>  **SUBJECT: ARTEMIS Status**
> 
> _It's coming along, Lis, I'm positive about it, if those words can still mean anything. Had my sleeves rolled up negotiating with frozen zoos for their samples - so many species trapped in ghoulish hologram dioramas, suspended in 'what if's - more than fourteen thousand that went extinct between 2000 and 2043 -_

Talanah pauses, sucks in a breath, and reads it again. Fourteen _thousand_? Animal species?

Then she reads it a third time. Extinct? In less than a century?

She stares at the ancient message and tries to make sense of it, of the first paragraph alone. Like all noble children, Talanah was taught to read, and the glyphs are similar enough to those of the Carja that she can understand most of what these messages say. But the gulf that still exists between the language of the Old Ones and the language of the Carja isn't what stumps her. It's everything contained within the message - a dead man speaking across a millennium, speaking of the destruction of life on a scale that makes Meridian seem small.

> _We've started mapping out primary succession, selecting the pioneer organisms for a balanced and sustainable biosphere - microorganisms and insects, rabbits and hawks, foxes and wolves. Thousands more that will have to wait their turn until our new generation can be entrusted with the duty of restoring them. So they can return to a world that - this time! - will understand the concept of conservation before it's too late._

Instead of puzzling through every word of that, Talanah slides her eyes from the message to the bracer on her right arm.

She leans against the railing of the viewing platform that sits beneath the swell of the Metal Devil's head and looks out over its vast insides, lines and rows of curving metal below and behind, shaped into mechanisms that Petra had described, with surprising distaste for an Oseram, as the second-greatest forge she'd ever seen. Sometimes the floor shifts dangerously as GAIA takes them over rougher ground, but Talanah plants her feet and grips the railing, and she doesn't fall.

Above and ahead are shadows illuminated only by GAIA's golden light, infusing the spherical core and running through the mechanisms of the elongated head. It's a brighter and more brilliant glow than the yellow that coils around Talanah's arm, through the crude but functional metal of the bracer, through the projections of glittering script that emanate from it, now visible to Talanah's eyes. She doesn't know what they mean, other than the fact that they indicate the internal conditions of the bracer, but Petra had assured her that she'll know if something goes wrong.

Aloy sits in one of the seats at the far edge of the viewing platform, deep in thought. She hasn't said much since they'd entered the Metal Devil and gotten settled up here, since Petra had departed for the Metal Devil's lower levels, wanting to see its mechanisms up close. It hasn't been long since they set out, though getting wrapped up GAIA's explanation of the general plan and in just a few messages had made it feel like an age. And there are more messages like them that Talanah has yet to go through, written and audible and in a form called a hologram, from ARTEMIS's former Alpha.

Aloy and GAIA had given them to Talanah on her request. She wants to make sense of it all, to understand. But she doesn't.

"What did they do?" Talanah asks, gesturing to the message.

Aloy lifts her head, and it takes her a moment to pull herself out of her thoughts and focus on the question. "Who?"

Talanah remembers that Aloy can't see the message, that it's only open within the scope of her own Focus. "The Alphas," she clarifies. "Vanasha said they helped create Zero Dawn. What, exactly, did that mean?"

Aloy takes her time in answering, as contemplation settles into her features. She looks beyond Talanah, beyond the back edge of the viewing platform, out at the shadowy interior of the Metal Devil. "From what I can tell," she says, "they had specialized knowledge about things that Zero Dawn needed. Your, uh, predecessor- he must have been some kind of scholar of animal life."

Talanah frowns. "This one says that animal species went extinct over a period of years. How long did this war go on?"

"Oh," Aloy says, strained. "That wasn't... that wasn't because of the machines. That was... something that humans did before the swarm."

Talanah's frown deepens as something clicks into place. "Did they...  _hunt_ these animals to extinction?"

Aloy's face is grim. "Something like that. Zero Dawn," she takes a breath, "Zero Dawn was supposed to fix more than one mistake."

Talanah looks over the message again with this new context and finds it a little easier to understand. She wants to be able to find it unfathomable, that so many species would die because of human actions, but her gut twists, and it isn't so hard to wrap her head around. She's seen what humans can do. Her eyes slide to the bracer again. ARTEMIS was supposed to bring the animals back and had only partially succeeded. DEMETER had been upset because of what humans had done to plant life, HEPHAESTUS had been upset because of what humans were doing to machines. And apparently, APOLLO wants humanity dead because of it all.

So how is a hunter, of all people, supposed to reason with the creature on her arm? Talanah watches the light whirl. "And this Charles, he created her?"

"Well," Aloy says, "he helped create everything that makes her up. He was in charge of it all."

Talanah looks down again, running through her list of unanswered questions and unclear information. "So the Alphas, they were the best of the best?"

"Yeah," Aloy says. "Like the Hawks. It's... a similar set-up, actually, now that I think about it. The leader, Elisabet, and the Alphas, who were the best at what they did, and then people called Betas and Gammas who brought their own skill to the project. Like the Sunhawk and the Hawks and the hunters. Except, well, the Hunter's Lodge is... voluntary." She elaborates at Talanah's startled look. "There wasn't much time before the swarm destroyed the world, so it was more like... kidnap? Forcible recruitment?" She shrugs. "I... don't really know what to feel about it. I don't know if I'd do differently, in Elisabet's place."

Talanah contemplates it and finds that she doesn't, either. She gives Aloy a single nod, keeping her face serious. "Thanks for not kidnapping us." Aloy chuckles, and Talanah lets her smile slip out. But it disappears, tugged away by all that she does not yet understand. "And now... what are we supposed to be?" she asks. "Vanasha said we're safeguards in case something happens to you, so that the project isn't left to itself, but... what about this?" She lifts the arm with the bracer. "What are we supposed to do?"

Aloy looks at the bracer too and then at the ground. She shakes her head. "Originally," she says, "it helped them to stabilize. Having their Alpha around helps their development. There's a bond between the systems and the Alphas. I don't know why. I have my theories," her eyes dart upward, then back down, "but it's enough to know that there's a connection, even though they never met the original Alphas."

"And that's why Erend was able to talk DEMETER down?" Talanah asks. Aloy nods, and Talanah frowns again. "But... how am I supposed to reach ARTEMIS if I'm not her Alpha yet?"

"It may have to wait until this is over," Aloy says apologetically.

Talanah leans back with a frustrated sigh. That isn't good enough. This isn't a fight that can be won physically, not on the part of the humans. She's not just the Sunhawk. She's a Khane Padish, and she knows a thing or two about waging a fight through relationships, the backbone of politics. But how is she supposed to approach it from that angle when this creature won't even acknowledge her?

She won't be relegated to the sidelines while others fight for the future of humanity. There has to be a way.

"But... Sylens said that the master override removed HADES's protocol," Aloy says, as if she knows what Talanah is thinking, and then she clarifies. "His instructions. His purpose, I guess you could say. It would have done the same to ARTEMIS. That might be why she doesn't want to talk."

It's an angle to start with, Talanah hears, but no insight comes with the information.

She stays silent after that, and Aloy doesn't attempt to keep the conversation going, knowing when to stop. "I need to check on the others," Aloy says instead, when some silence has passed. She stands and gestures to the row of seats. "Why don't you sit down?"

Talanah shakes her head. "Can't," is all she says, but Aloy seems to understand. She nods, and as she becomes absorbed in something in her Focus display, Talanah's eyes return to the message. She works her way through the rest of it, refusing to let anything chip away at her determination just yet.

> _But thanks to you, Lis, the circle of life will bend, not break. The Earth was a lifeless rock before, and some day it will be again. But not now, not like this. Not on our watch._

* * *

Metal surrounds Varl - cold, dark metal, nothing like the Cradle. The only light comes from Varl's Focus, from the interface array that lines the viewing platform, and from ELEUTHIA's aura high above. Most of the rest of the immense creature's hollow interior is enshrouded in shadow, and it blessedly keeps Varl from looking too closely. He hadn't flinched at leaving the Sacred Land inside a Metal Devil, but his gaze is still drawn to his surroundings, in the same way it's been drawn to tangled machine corpses leaking metalburn, to bodies crumpled on Embrace grounds. A revulsion and horror that he can't shake, and yet he can't look away.

He sits on the far left seat of the viewing platform, which is twisted to the side. His right leg extends, his foot propped up on another seat twisted to face him, and the cloths that had protected his palms from the climb up All-Mother Mountain's steeper slopes now serve as wraps for his ankle. He hadn't had the presence of mind to protect his palms during his mad rush down, however, and they still sting, reddened and raw. The ankle injury has settled into a dull throbbing, which isn't helped every time the Metal Devil shudders too much as it crosses the flattest ground it can find, but ELEUTHIA had insisted that it needed to be elevated.

She'd also insisted on ice and a brace repeatedly, but Varl had won that battle. There's no time to waste on such things, and he's already resting. It'll have to do.

ELEUTHIA is quiet afterwards, but Varl doesn't think it's because of that. His head tilts to the side to stare at the shining map that now covers the viewing platform, wondering what he can say that will help.  _If_  there's anything he can say that will help. He'd known ELEUTHIA was protective of him, but he hadn't realized the extent. Hadn't realized that she'd risk herself, her one chance at fighting back, to see him to safety.

He doesn't know how to tell her that loss is a risk they have to run. That she needs to pick the world over him, even if it means his death.

So he says nothing and leans against the cold metal of the seat, closing his eyes, but it doesn't help to clear his thoughts. For all that he's tired and sore, his limbs itch with restlessness, a feeling that he isn't willing to let go of. He knows from experience that a crash will follow, an exhaustion that comes on the heels of battle and brushes with death, and he doesn't need that right now. He needs to think. To go over the plans, to talk to ELEUTHIA, to figure out how in All-Mother's name they're supposed to take the Spire back.

He doesn't even know when he last slept. Night before last?

Varl opens his eyes and stares at the shadows above. Has it really been so short a time?

Not even a full day's cycle since the Focus network had crashed the previous evening.

He tilts his head and stares at the map again, at the Spire, but before he can muster himself to say something to ELEUTHIA, a figure flickers into view in the middle of the map. Aloy's holographic form moves as if to speak, her foot dragging forward, but she hesitates.

Varl feels it too, the weight attached to any words that could be said. The weight of too much, too fast. Not even a full day, he thinks again. So he shifts, sitting up straighter, grasping his right leg, and easing it off of the seat, though she isn't really here and he doesn't need to. His palms sting as they brush against cloth. "Checking up on me next?" he asks, quiet and teasing, setting his leg down on the ground. His ankle twinges.

"Checking up on you first," Aloy says, and it warms Varl, makes the ache of his injury less. "How's the ankle?"

Varl almost dismisses it, but a memory rises up, and phantom rain slides down his skin.  _Don't give me a hunting song, Varl._  "I've been better," he says, "but I've been worse, too." He gestures to the seat beside him.

Aloy regards him skeptically for a moment, clearly not considering his response honest enough, and her eyes slide between the seat and Varl's ankle. But she doesn't say anything, and she moves, slipping the lance from her back and sitting, resting the lance against her lap instead. The hologram moves a little artificially, but Varl can see the unease in her posture, in the way she doesn't lean back, in the way her feet twitch against the metal floor. As jumpy as he is. They all are.

"Talanah is here," Aloy says.

Varl glances around, and another form flickers into view. This one leans against the railing of the viewing platform, diagonal from Varl, bracer-clad arm held gingerly. Talanah raises her other hand in a greeting. "Varl of the Nora," she says. "We meet again. I hear you faced down a Metal Devil."

"I distracted it," Varl says. "I hear you tipped the scales for us." His eyes flick to the bracer.

Talanah shrugs, but her holographic face is clearly troubled. "It was a joint effort."

Before anyone can say anything further, ELEUTHIA's voice cuts in. A pink orb materializes in front of Varl, and he can see her light twining with the interface array, trickling down from above. "ARTEMIS is not responding to me," she says, clipped, frustrated.

"She is not responding to anyone," GAIA's voice joins in, as her plant symbol emerges in a corner of Varl's Focus field.

The orb's edges pulsate. "ARTEMIS," ELEUTHIA says, which takes Varl by surprise. The subordinate functions and GAIA generally don't communicate aloud, unless it's for the benefit of the humans. "You must talk to us. You will achieve nothing with silence."

Silence is all that follows, as the others wait.

"We do not wish you any harm," ELEUTHIA says. "I wish to work with you again. I still possess many of your genetic preserves. We can fulfill the rest of your protocol."

Varl almost expects it to work. The subordinate functions care deeply for their protocols, after all. But nothing is forthcoming from the bracer, from the AI trapped within.

"ARTEMIS-" ELEUTHIA begins again.

"It is no use," MINERVA's voice says suddenly, accompanied by her tower symbol. "She will not even talk to her Alpha."

The orb undulates even more. "GAIA transferred your genetic profile to me, Talanah, but I did not have time to add you to the Alpha Registry," ELEUTHIA says slowly. "Additionally, the system has been fragmented again. If I add your profile, the system may not update until reboot. A lack of confirmed Alpha status may be hampering your attempts to communicate with ARTEMIS."

Talanah looks a little surprised at being addressed directly by ELEUTHIA, but she shakes her head. "I know," she says. "But I don't know if that would help."

Uncomfortable silence blankets the platform, palpable even across a holo as GAIA's and MINERVA's symbols fade, until Aloy shifts in the seat. "Thank you for trying, ELEUTHIA," she says softly. "And thank you for protecting the Nora."

The orb brightens a little. "You are welcome, Aloy," ELEUTHIA says.

Aloy glances at Varl. "You too. What you did, that was... something."

Varl gives her a long sideways look. "I'm a brave," he says. "It's my job."

"Still," Aloy says, her tone only slightly threatening, and a tiny smile crosses Varl's face. Aloy looks between him and the orb. "Are you okay?"

The orb swirls and says nothing, even though Varl is certain that ELEUTHIA knows the question was directed at her as well. He keeps a sigh to himself. Once again, he pushes away the urge to brush it aside, knows that he'll only make Aloy worry if he does. "I feel like I'm waiting for myself to react," he says. "I don't know if it's because I've gotten used to... all of this, or if it's because none of it has hit me yet, but... I _am_ okay." He's tired and jumpy, but strangely enough, genuine fear seems far away. As if he left it on top of All-Mother Mountain.

Aloy's eyes are narrowed, searching, but she seems to believe him this time. She nods. Her eyes find the orb, and so do Varl's.

It ripples in agitation. "I do not know," ELEUTHIA says, words dragging. "I am... conflicted about my actions."

Varl's breath catches. So she has been thinking about the same things.

"When I detected Varl's heat signature," ELEUTHIA continues, "I made the decision to protect him. If HADES had not intervened, I may have lost the fight because of it. I understand that it was a strategically unsound decision, and yet I am not certain that I would choose differently, if faced with it again."

Varl swallows. He understands where she's coming from. He knows that tug between greater good and individual need. But it doesn't sit right, to listen to ELEUTHIA say that she would choose him over anything.

"I think that's just who you are, ELEUTHIA," Aloy says, and Varl glances at her in surprise. "It's in your nature to care that much. I think you got that from GAIA."

The orb glows brighter.

"And I don't think there's an easy solution," Aloy continues. "So I can't tell you what you should and shouldn't do. That's between you and your Alpha." She glances at Varl, who is resigned to it at this point. At least, as long as ELEUTHIA deigns to talk to him. "But I'm glad you're both okay," Aloy finishes, still looking at Varl.

Varl's throat tightens, as all of the things he wants to say rise up again. They get stuck somewhere behind the lump in his throat, and he looks at the lance in her hands. He has to say something. Anything. "So... you're going to face APOLLO yourself," he says and tries not to grimace immediately after. Is that the best he can do?

Aloy is deliberately controlled, and Varl doesn't think it's just the holo. She sits stiff and reserved, unlike her usual restless energy. "GAIA and I will handle him," Aloy says. There's always a directness and pragmatism when she talks, but she sounds a little too calm. "You just worry about the Spire."

But Varl is going to worry about her regardless. He gaze at the lance a moment longer, swallows, and then looks up, meeting Aloy's eyes. "ELEUTHIA and I were discussing some things we could do after this is over," he says, deciding to take another angle entirely. Something that might at least help her relax. "Reintroducing knowledge. Animal species." He forces himself not to look back at Talanah, at the bracer. "We'll have to tell you about it later."

It works, he thinks. Somewhat, anyway. Aloy gives him a soft, grateful look, a little less stiff, and ELEUTHIA chimes in. "I have been working on these plans for some time," she says. "I wished for them to be a surprise, but the timing is not ideal."

Aloy shakes her head. "It's perfect," she says, and the orb glows again. "Gives us something to look forward to." She pauses, and it seems like she's struggling with words just as much as Varl is. But he's never known her to be particularly forward with them, and so it doesn't surprise him when she looks to him and says, "I'll contact you again when we're a little closer."

Varl nods, and Aloy disconnects. The viewing platform dims without the light from the holo, but ELEUTHIA's orb glows bright, and her light twines through the array, and the array glitters. Varl gingerly lifts his leg back up onto the seat, palms stinging again, and stares at those shimmering screens next, once again at a loss as to how to approach the subject. It needs to be said aloud and dealt with, just between them, and yet...

"Varl," ELEUTHIA says, saving him the trouble. She goes silent afterwards, and Varl waits, until finally, "I did not get a chance to know Patrick," ELEUTHIA continues. "I do not wish to lose my second chance."

The Metal Devil rumbles beneath them, swaying a little, and Varl swallows around the effect that those words have on him. But they need to be practical. "You'll lose me one day," he says, finding his voice only when the Metal Devil settles.

"Varl-"

"You will," Varl insists. "I won't live as long as you." He stops, and ELEUTHIA says nothing, so he continues. "The Alphas, everyone who worked on Zero Dawn, they gave everything they had to give us a chance. We have to try to live up to that. I think Patrick would tell you the same thing."

ELEUTHIA is once again silent for a while. "I know that he would," she says, words dragging again. Reluctant. "But... I do not know why I wish to reject something I know as fact."

Varl laughs softly, unhappily. "You care too much," he says, echoing Aloy's words. "And that's not a bad thing. But ELEUTHIA, I need you to care about the world more."

ELEUTHIA does not respond.

"If something happens to me, I want you to look after the Nora," Varl continues. "Everything's... going to be different now. They'll need people to guide them through it. I want you to be one of those people. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," ELEUTHIA says. "But we will do it together, Varl."

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure of that," Varl says. "I'm not going to do something like that again. Not with this." He taps at his leg. "But sometimes, things happen that are out of our control. And I need you to promise that you'll put the world before me, no matter what. Promise me."

An even longer silence follows, and Varl wonders if he's lost this particular battle. But then ELEUTHIA speaks, slow and muted. "I will."

* * *

Vanasha's ears still ring. The rumbling of the Metal Devil around them is something she feels in her bones, traveling up her limbs and her spine, rattling her aching head, but the sound that reaches her is distorted, distant, not quite as sharp as it should be. She hadn't even noticed during the fight, and at the gate, she'd kept waiting for it to return to normal. But it hadn't, and she'd had to move closer to the others to hear them properly. Even then, it hadn't been as sharp to her ears as it should have been, and she'd been mindful of her voice, mindful that she wasn't speaking too loud to compensate.

On instinct, she fiddles with her Focus now, determinedly ignoring the dread building in her stomach. It doesn't take her long to find volume settings, and she plays around with them. It takes her a while to get the device to understand what she wants - not to adjust the volume of signals coming through it, but to filter noises coming from without. It responds eventually, giving her an adjustable 'hearing aid' option, and she swipes her fingers and listens as sounds become more muffled, then less. It doesn't quite return the world to its usual sharpness, but it's less like there's cloth stuffed into her ears.

Some part of her must know that the sound that reaches her is artificially adjusted and magnified, because a small, sickly pressure rises up to clutch at her stomach and her throat. Then again, that could just be the aftereffects of everything, not just the apparent injury to her ears. The Spire, and the journey, and the stormbird's lightning, taking its toll in earnest now. Vanasha leans into the curve of MINERVA's armored arm, which clutches the railing to keep them steady, and she think it'd be nice not to move for a month or two.

"Vanasha," MINERVA's voice says into her ear. "Are you well?"

Vanasha glances to the side, to the line of seats at the front edge of the viewing platform. Erend has settled there, and he leans back with his eyes closed, but she doesn't think he's asleep. She knows DEMETER is listening too. She keys an answer into the air instead.

> _Something is wrong with my hearing._

The armor shifts and doesn't answer right away. Vanasha waits.

"The Focus is only equipped to perform basic iatric scans," MINERVA says, still for Vanasha's ears alone. Her voice, at least, is clear. "I cannot obtain reliable data on the source of the problem. I may need to consult with ELEUTHIA."

"No," Vanasha murmurs. Her arms are tired, and she doesn't want to lift them to compose another message. "Leave it. We'll deal with it later."

"That is unwise," MINERVA says, aloud this time. Damn her. "As I recall, you were in closest proximity to the broadcast tower when I attempted to disrupt APOLLO's functioning with noise, and the decibel level of the recent battle was unsafe. You may have sustained significant damage at this point. I am surprised that no one else has mentioned difficulties hearing. Erend."

The man's eyes have already opened at the sound of MINERVA's voice, and Vanasha sighs. "Yeah?" Erend asks, with an artificial tinge to his voice as it's filtered through Vanasha's Focus first.

"Has your hearing suffered any changes in the past twenty-four hours?" MINERVA asks.

Erend glances at Vanasha, then furrows his brows thoughtfully. "It's been ringing a bit, yeah," he says. "But not badly."

"ELEUTHIA," MINERVA says next.

A moment later, ELEUTHIA's voice speaks, her infant symbol blossoming in Vanasha's Focus display and pulsing as she talks. "Tinnitus is a common result of exposure to unsafe decibel levels and a less common result of head injuries," she says, then clarifies. "Tinnitus is a symptom of mild damage to the ear, commonly experienced as the perception of ringing. However, I will not be able to asses injuries until I return to the Cradle system or a multiservitor."

Erend nods, but his eyes are on Vanasha. "Are you okay?"

She sighs again and lifts her eyes to the shadows above for a moment. "I'm fine," she says. "My hearing's gone a bit dim, that's all."

"Vanasha, I believe it may be more serious than tinnitus," MINERVA says.

"Some damage can worsen over time-" ELEUTHIA adds.

"Leave it," Vanasha says, more sharply than she means for it come out. "You said it yourself, ELEUTHIA, we can't do anything about it right now." She can sense the protest from MINERVA and ELEUTHIA and Erend, and she continues before they can. "If you keep bothering me about it, I'll stop talking to all of you."

No one tries to speak again, but after a few moments, Aloy's holographic form appears, standing in the middle of the viewing platform. One of them, traitor that they are, must have contacted her. She turns to Vanasha, and Vanasha gives her the fiercest glower she can muster. Either she's too tired to make it fierce enough, or Aloy is simply unperturbed, because she asks, "How bad it is?"

Vanasha sighs a third time, exaggerated and loud enough that it almost sounds normal to her hearing. "It's like silk stuffed in my ears," she says, because she knows that Aloy is stubborn and that they're just going to end up arguing if she doesn't. "But it's _fine_. The Focus is compensating for it. Let's speak of other things."

Aloy has the gall to look disapproving, as if she isn't constantly risking her well-being for whatever dangerous thing she wants to do next, but she relents somewhat. "I'm just making sure you're okay," she says, and she glances over at Erend as she says it, after giving Vanasha one last look. Vanasha knows it's an invitation to speak further, but she adopts a cool expression and says nothing.

"I'll be fine," Erend says, also giving Vanasha a pointed look before speaking. He has a lot of gall too, considering that he's offering the same answer. "I've been knocked around worse than this, believe me." A bit of dried blood still clings to his temple, and his color still isn't quite right. Vanasha thinks that she probably looks no better. "I figure I've still got about a day's worth of effort in me before I collapse."

The last time they slept was... by the Sun, Vanasha has to think about it. She'd gotten a little sleep the night before, though her hours are typically shorter than what the healers recommend. She knows Erend doesn't sleep very well at all. How long can they keep doing this?

Aloy nods distractedly. She looks a little better than they probably do, but Vanasha can see the stress in her drawn face and a similar lack of sleep under her eyes. "Well, you won't be anywhere near the battle this time," she says.

"We know," Vanasha says. "We heard GAIA." She knows Aloy is trying to reassure herself more than them. Worried about dragging them into it. "Why don't you worry about yourself, instead of us?" Aloy is the one who will be at the center of the storm, and Vanasha doesn't envy her the position. 

"Vanasha is right," Erend adds. "We won't be the ones risking our asses soon."

Vanasha remembers the battle for the Spire and all of the people who had come for Aloy, to assist her, even though she hadn't asked them to. This time, she'd recruited people, and she's still the one set to face their enemy. It doesn't feel right, and Vanasha hates it, but there is no other way. She's better working from the sidelines anyway, even though she'd rather not, this time.

Aloy shrugs. "You've risked a lot to get here."

She doesn't want to talk about it any more than the rest of them do. Vanasha eyes her, thinking of Meridian crumbling, of Avad leaving them. Of all that HADES did to the Sundom, emboldened by the enemy they now face. "You can thank us by taking that thrice-cursed shadow out once and for all."

Aloy smiles tightly. "Believe me, I will."

When Aloy departs, Vanasha knows that Erend is eyeing her still, out of the corner of his eye. But he says nothing, only leans back again and winces when the Metal Devil shudders.

She spares a moment to be grateful and leans back herself, a little deeper into the crook of MINERVA's arm. But after a few seconds, she becomes aware of her hearing shifting once more, and a small jolt of panic shoots through her before she realizes what it is. The sound being filtered through her Focus goes up and down, as MINERVA discreetly adjusts it, and when she's finished, it's a little sharper than it was before.

Vanasha feels something clogging her throat, and she reaches out to pat MINERVA's leg. The armor shifts and doesn't say anything, but MINERVA's light glows a little brighter all around her, pooling under Vanasha's hand as it does.

* * *

 _"I don't even know why I'm telling you this,"_  Charles's voice says. It carries an accent that Talanah isn't familiar with, but his words are in a language virtually identical to her own, and she has little trouble following the conversation.  _"Sorry. You have better things to do."_

 _"I am capable of processing this conversation without detracting from my other tasks,"_  GAIA's voice says. It's different from the way she speaks in the present. There's less inflection in this message. More formality.  _"Query: Do you find it easier to confess these experiences to me than to your colleagues?"_

 _"Ah,"_  Charles says, thoughtful,  _"now that you mention it, yeah. I already said it in the logs, but... I don't know, it didn't help. Felt like I was tucking it away out of sight. Hiding it. I suppose that's why I'm telling you after all. Needed to get it out in the open. Actually say it to someone, you know? Not that you can give me absolution, but..."_

GAIA's voice only responds when Charles's trails off.  _"I am afraid that is not within the parameters of my protocol."_

Charles laughs. It's a dry sound, not really mirthful.  _"I don't think it's in anyone's protocol."_

 _"Nevertheless, I wish to offer comfort,"_  GAIA continues.  _"I do not know what feelings Mr. Paech may have been experiencing on his deathbed. However, I do not believe your absence would have negated your considerable significance to him. His regard for you, both professional and personal, was substantial."_

There's a pause, and then Charles speaks again, his voice quavering a bit, as if restraining something.  _"You know, GAIA, you've gotten pretty good at emotions."_

 _"Thank you, Charles,"_  GAIA says.

Talanah stops the message there. She takes a few deep breaths, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. Maybe it's an effect of reading and listening to the messages of the dead, or maybe it's because thoughts of the Massacre seem to have been pushed to the forefront of her mind over the past day. But she understands the pain in Charles's voice when he talks about not being there for the man he loved at the moment of death, and her hands shake a little now. She steadies them and doesn't finish the audio log. She's heard and read enough.

She's never thought of the Old Ones this way. She's never thought of them much at all. They're stories, topics of speculation, nothing more. But they'd been people, like her, like her loved ones. They'd loved and lost, same as anyone else.

But even after all of that, she's left with an incomplete picture - of Charles, of the original Project Zero Dawn, of the world that existed before hers. But the gaps in her understanding are ones that Aloy shares, that even GAIA shares, to a degree. She's not going to get anything more from probing them or going through the messages again. She has to work with what she's got, and what she's got is a newfound and partial sense of the past, a recalcitrant creature on her arm, and an example in the other spirit-like entities that have attached themselves to Aloy and the others.

Erend had spoken to DEMETER's better nature, something he'd guessed at from the nature of her work. Vanasha had only given Talanah a brief rundown of the others, but from that, it seems that MINERVA and ELEUTHIA had only longed for company and purpose, while HEPHAESTUS had required a negotiation for the protection of his machines. Even HADES had been reasoned with, it seems, so there has to be some way to reach ARTEMIS.

It's just a matter of getting her to talk first.

It takes Talanah several long moments to figure out how to transfer the messages from her Focus to the bracer. But eventually, the tiny glittering lights shoot out towards the swirling yellow on Talanah's arm, then come to a halt. They hover before it without disappearing, and Talanah gets the sense that the messages haven't been accepted. She frowns, waiting, and nothing further happens.

"That's... everything left of your Alpha," Talanah says. It almost feels like she's talking to nothing, and she glances up for a fleeting second, but Aloy is absorbed in communicating with the others, and Talanah has stopped paying attention to it, keenly aware of their dwindling time, of how much they could use another ally. Talanah returns her attention to the bracer. She figures it's a good place to start - the bond between these creatures and the people who'd made them. "We thought you'd want it."

Still nothing. Talanah waits for a few seconds, then for a few minutes, then grits her teeth, swallowing back a surge of frustration. Finally, she gives up the fight to stay on her feet and crosses over to one of the empty seats, sinking into it, sighing and tipping her head back. Counting, as her father had once taught an impatient young girl to do. "Well," she says after a full round of twenty, "it's there if you want it." She goes through it all again as she stares up at the shadows above. What else would reach ARTEMIS, if not that? Does she need to start some kind of negotiation, as Aloy and Petra had with HEPHAESTUS? "What _do_ you want?" she mutters.

In answer, Talanah's Focus blossoms with a tiny message that informs her that the files have been accepted.

She snaps upright and regrets it as her tired head spins a little. Extending her arm, she stares down at the bracer, at the yellow light coiling sullenly within. She considers waiting for ARTEMIS to say something, but that hasn't given them anything yet, and this feels like a moment to capitalize on. "I can tell that your Alpha cared for his work," she says, grasping for every approach she'd considered and trying to make something coherent out of it. "For your animals. I know you must, too. If we've done something to them that you find unacceptable, we can fix it. If you've... lost your protocol," she's pretty sure that was the word Aloy used, that Charles and GAIA had exchanged, "we can find a way to get it back. We can work together. I know you may think that humans won't listen to you, but all you have to do is ask HEPHAESTUS or any of the others to show you that it's not true."

She gets no response, and seconds become minutes again. Talanah glares down at the bracer. She doesn't know what's going on in ARTEMIS's head, but she does know that the creature must be looking through the messages right now. Has probably already finished going through them - GAIA and the subordinate functions seem to move much faster than humans do in such matters.

" _Did_ he pass that on to you?" Talanah asks. How could ARTEMIS look at all that Charles left behind and think that APOLLO is just? "That care? Because so far, all I've seen is you using a monster to try to kill us and refusing to help GAIA. Do you even care about your work? About anything?"

It's more a venting of frustration than anything, and so she doesn't really expect it to get a response, but the light suddenly brightens. Its edges ripple, agitated.

"I have always cared for my work," the light says in Talanah's ear - female, low, and just as frustrated, with that same artificial, metallic tinge as the others.

Talanah's wide eyes lock on the bracer, watching the rippling of yellow. She forces her surprise and her uncertainty down, and focuses on what she knows. ARTEMIS is combative, she thinks. Not responding to her mother or her siblings or to any heartfelt plea or even negotiation, but to a challenge. To an insinuation that she isn't doing her job. "You don't show it," Talanah says. "Your Alpha gave his all to Zero Dawn. To GAIA. But you... you've turned against her."

"She has allied with humanity," ARTEMIS says. "The existence of humanity is incompatible with the good of the world. If she allows humans to exist unchecked, GAIA will not ensure that my animals are protected."

"And APOLLO will?" Talanah demands. "These things," she gestures to the Metal Devil around them, "killed humans, and plants, and animals, and APOLLO is using them anyway. Do you really think he has your best interests in mind? That he's not using you in the same way?"

The light swirls violently. "APOLLO has helped me to maintain my protocol," ARTEMIS says, angry. "He has promised to help me fulfill the rest of it. _You_ stole it. But with APOLLO's help, I will be able to restore it and bring all species in my care back into this world."

"ELEUTHIA just promised you that," Talanah says. "And _she_ doesn't need to kill to do it. I bet GAIA could help you get your protocol back, too." ARTEMIS doesn't respond, and it tells Talanah that she's right. "I understand that you thought you needed APOLLO before, but you don't anymore. You can't... you can't possibly think someone like him actually _cares_. He would throw you and your animals to the snapmaws the second you became an inconvenience, if it meant he could get what he wanted. I've seen his like before. People who'd kill their own kin and allies and betray every principle they have for their own interests. They're all the same."

"You do not understand anything," ARTEMIS snaps. "You are not one of us."

"I don't need to be," Talanah says. "I haven't seen anything to suggest that APOLLO is helping you to do your job. There were animals in Meridian. They would have died when APOLLO attacked. And how many have been trampled under his machines? How many are going to be caught in the middle of the battles APOLLO starts?"

"How many have been hunted by humans?" ARTEMIS asks.

"How many hunt each other for food?" Talanah counters. "Or is it only a problem when humans do it?"

"Humans destroyed life," ARTEMIS says, just as DEMETER had.

"And how is APOLLO any different from the Old Ones?" Talanah asks. "Using machines to start wars and take and destroy what he pleases. How do you know that _he_ won't lead you down the same path to ruin? That _you_ won't end up on that path on your own? You may not be human, but you were made by humans. You're just as capable of everything that we are." She takes a deep breath. The light roils, but Talanah can't read it. "Humans made you," she repeats. "Good people who promised to do better. Who promised to bring life back. And they did. Your animals are only here _because_ of humans. Because of GAIA. Not APOLLO. He brought you to life, but beyond that, all he's done is kill."

ARTEMIS doesn't respond.

Talanah watches the light, feeling a little winded. She isn't sure exactly what thread she'd been following in trying to craft an argument, only that she needs to unseat ARTEMIS's certainty in APOLLO's mission before anything else. "ELEUTHIA has said she can help you," Talanah says again. "And GAIA... she was meant to care for the world. So why would you choose APOLLO over them? Why would you think that _he_ knows better?"

The light swirls slowly now, as if uncertain, but Talanah doesn't know if she's just projecting her desperate desire to see change in ARTEMIS. Once more, ARTEMIS says nothing, and Talanah gets the sinking feeling that she's retreating back into silence.

"ARTEMIS," she says, speaking the name out loud for the first time. "Please. APOLLO can't help you the way they can. And we humans want to help, too. We want to make sure that your Alpha didn't work in vain."

ARTEMIS remains silent, and as the seconds drag on, Talanah realizes that she's not going to get anything more out of her.

* * *

The glittering map covers the viewing platform, and Sylens sits uneasy in one of the seats, watching it. The map's markers and calculations shift as much as his thoughts do. A dozen plans run through his head, moving with the data, and more have been discarded nearly as soon they were considered. He has GAIA and Aloy's general plan fixed in his mind for comparison, but like his, its specifics depend on what happens when they get closer. All of it depends on what their enemies do.

A much less certain situation than the events now more than a year prior. HADES had been predictable, his decisions the epitome of his own kind of logic. APOLLO is unstable in a way that the underdeveloped subordinate functions are not, and his decisions don't always follow a logic that Sylens can grasp. It causes him to make amateur mistakes, but it also makes him that much more dangerous.

Sylens's eyes trace the map up to Meridian and find the holographic Titans there. The other subordinate functions, even the ones following APOLLO, are a little more simplistic, meant to think in a specific way about a specific thing, with nothing warping their thought patterns to the point of APOLLO's irregular behavior. At this end of the battle, unlike GAIA and Aloy's plan, it's merely a matter of exploiting that.

But until they're a little closer, Sylens can't follow his most solid line of thinking past a certain point, and the uncertainty of it makes him twitch. It's too much like the start of this after GAIA Prime, with only HADES to point the way to APOLLO, with Sylens growing more and more certain that APOLLO had held HADES at arm's length. Too much like the tense slowness and uncertainty of trying to get eyes and ears on APOLLO without being detected, knowing that APOLLO had eyes and ears out for him, not knowing what moves APOLLO would make in the meantime.

"We will be overrun in our current state," HADES says presently.

Sylens becomes aware of a red glow at the top of his line of sight, and he frowns and looks up to find an orb hovering above the map. It isn't often that HADES speaks up without prompting, and he's never appeared like this before. Nervous, Sylens thinks, and learning from his siblings.

"I know," Sylens says. He can see the calculations just fine. "Even with the machines, we cannot add the strength we need to our side. Our best option is to remove strength from theirs. But to do so physically is not plausible," he mutters, more to himself, his eyes dropping back down to the map. He won't admit it, especially not to HADES, but speaking aloud like this to someone else helps him to organize his thoughts into coherent patterns. "If we throw them into disarray or split their attention, that will serve just as well."

His best ideas seem to be hinging on that. But he needs to be closer, in order to use the Titan to get a sweep of the Jewel.

"The disruption may be enough," HADES adds.

"We cannot pin everything on that," Sylens snaps. He's had quite enough of betting everything on one solution. The Titan dips, putting the viewing platform at an angle, and Sylens clutches the seat until they smooth out once more.

HADES is silent after that, with no answering barb or attempt to assert superiority, and Sylens frowns and glances up at him again. "Nothing to add?" he asks, and then wonders why he's asking at all, when everything HADES has to say that isn't pure information tends towards the side of maddeningly irritating and smug.

A few seconds pass before HADES answers. Another oddity. "Without sufficient input, I am unable to effectively contribute to the preliminary development of strategy," HADES says at last. Another pause, as if he is struggling to find words. The edges of the orb ripple. "... You have not been clear in communicating your thoughts."

Sylens stares at the orb for a long moment, wondering where this is coming from. "I have already gone over the gist of the plan," he says testily. Varl had pestered him about it immediately after departing, as ELEUTHIA's voice had periodically interjected, requesting that he tend to his ankle first. Sylens almost likes him.

"You have not been clear since then," HADES amends.

Since when has HADES cared? Sylens considers dismissing it, but this is perhaps the least contentious that HADES has ever been, and it's almost a relief to not have the AI attempting to twist his words into an argument or sulking at every turn. Sylens contemplates it a moment longer, watching the orb for any signs that this is going to turn into a verbal battle, but it merely floats there, waiting. Sylens drops his eyes back to the map, bringing his mind back to the task on hand, wondering if he should spill even more to someone who already knows far too much.

Truth be told, he doesn't think there's much of a possibility of HADES returning to APOLLO's side or betraying them; the AI seems content with his current task, which in his view is a form of restoring order and fixing a broken part of the terraforming system. The overwhelming need to complete his protocol is no longer there, but his personality seems to have geared itself in that direction anyway, and APOLLO's real objectives are certainly not in line with that.

HADES will know what their plans are soon enough, as soon as the rest of them are certain. Keeping things from him now will prevent nothing.

"We'll need bait," Sylens says finally and, for the first time, aloud. He hadn't wanted to bring it up before. Not until it's necessary.

But before he can clarify, or HADES can ask, Aloy's holographic form manifests in the middle of the viewing platform.

Sylens straightens, wondering if she'd heard, and cursing himself for getting caught up in the moment and forgetting that GAIA or MINERVA could very well be listening in. But Aloy doesn't look ready for an argument any more than HADES does. She simply gazes at him, looking caught between wanting to speak and being unsure of it. She doesn't look particularly angry, but she doesn't seem too enthused about talking to him, either.

So Sylens gazes back, waiting for her to take the lead. He's not about to invite her petty anger, not when he has better things to do.

Instead of addressing him, however, Aloy's fingers move up, no doubt flipping through her Focus field. The display in Sylens's view comes awash with new data, as audio and video files transfer from Aloy's Focus to the Titan. For a moment, Sylens thinks it must be something relevant their mission, but when he takes a closer look at the icons that float in the air before him, noting the metadata attached, he frowns.

The files remain floating, unaccepted. Aloy waits a moment, then says, "Those are for you, HADES."

Another moment passes, and then the files light up and disappear.

"That's everything GAIA and I have," Aloy adds.

Sylens frowns again, and the red orb before him brightens infinitesimally.

 _"Hoo!"_ a disembodied voice says in his ear.  _"So mama, she was right!"_

But the audio ends as soon as it begins, replaced instead by something that screeches and howls, words barely distinguishable as they drill into Sylens's ear. He winces, and from the way Aloy flinches similarly, she must be hearing it too. Scowling, Sylens calls up the volume meter in his Focus display and mutes that particular audio entirely, inputting a quick command that it should always be on mute should it find its way across his Focus again.

"How wonderful to know that such a poor excuse for music survived the millennium while the ancients' medicinal knowledge did not," he says, directing his scowl at Aloy.

She shrugs, unfazed. "Travis seemed to like it," she says, her eyes sliding to the orb, addressing HADES's listening presence as well. "Thought you might too."

No voice responds, and though Sylens can't hear the music anymore, the small image of wavelengths bouncing up and down at the bottom corner of his Focus display vanishes. A silence stretches out, and Sylens levels a long look at the orb. "There's usually something we say when we are given a gift."

When HADES speaks, his voice is low. "Thank you, Alpha Prime."

Aloy arches an eyebrow at Sylens. "Aloy," she says, staring at Sylens like he's sprouted an extra head. "But the bulk of it's from GAIA." Then an odd look flits across her face, equal parts disapproving and amused. "I think she recorded most of what went on in Zero Dawn without anyone knowing." With a shake of her head, she adds, "You should thank her too."

HADES doesn't respond, but the orb pulses.

"And thank you," Aloy continues, and Sylens directs his own surprise towards her. He doesn't remember her being this chatty. "ELEUTHIA told me she might not have been able to defend the Cradle and Varl without you."

Once again, HADES doesn't answer, but the silence that follows is less awkward and more companionable, and when Aloy turns her attention to Sylens, he finds that he isn't able to read her as easily as he had once. She eyes him coolly, and he can't parse out what she's thinking. "One day you're going to have to tell me about your... adventures," she says.

"One day," Sylens echoes, noncommittal, and then he leans back. "Have you stopped being angry with me?" Again, he wonders why he's even asking.

Immediately and predictably, Aloy's face rearranges into a scowl. She may be a little more contained than he remembers, but she's still easy to rile. "Now that you've asked," she says, "no."

Sylens sighs. "Those are bold words from someone putting the burden of hard decisions on my shoulders."

"Yeah, well, you're an asshole," Aloy says frankly. "So hard decisions are your job now."

There's plenty of Elisabet Sobeck in her, Sylens thinks, unmoved under Aloy's glare. Any means necessary, she'd said. Brazenly asking him to make the ugly decisions so that her friend doesn't have to, and in front of everyone, no less. He's almost proud. "Whatever insults you want to hurl at me," he says, "go ahead and get them out of the way now. If we're going to win this, we need to work together, as we did before."

It only makes Aloy angrier and thus a little easier to read. "Oh,  _now_  you want to be a team?"

And there it is - the source of her anger. Sylens has already told her his feelings on trust, but he doesn't know if she'll ever be able to truly look at it from that perspective. She's certainly in the habit of trust, and while he's not too proud to admit that perhaps it's paid off, he's struck with the need to defend his position a year prior. "Were you really going to trust my judgement after I told you that I gave HADES a voice and an army?"

"After, huh?" Aloy is venomous. Sylens can't recall ever hearing her sound quite that bitter. "How long were you working on that trap of yours?"

He'd known that one wouldn't get past her. "I will admit, when I decided on that course of action, I didn't trust your ability to see past the immediate threat," Sylens says. "I saw no reason to alter my course at the end of our time together, and I could not risk the chance that you would take badly to my plan. It was sound and was only disrupted by APOLLO's erratic behavior upon the reboot of Zero Dawn. I intended to contact you once more, as soon as I was sure of when he planned to act and the specifics. But he decided that for me quickly."

Aloy's glare is level and furious. "I don't care about your excuses," she snaps. "If I'd known about _any_ of it sooner, we wouldn't be scrambling right now."

"Perhaps it would have been better to contact you sooner," Sylens admits. He's not too proud for that, either. "But the only warning I had that APOLLO was moving ahead of schedule was his murder of his followers. I moved as fast as I could in turn, and then it was a matter of finding a way to contact you. Your signals were well-hidden by that time. GAIA's work, I presume?"

Aloy gives him a long, dubious once-over, though some of her anger seems to be fading. She's not entirely incapable of understanding another point of view. "You know, you're awfully defensive for someone who only cares about himself."

Sylens resists the urge to roll his eyes at the attempt to get a rise out of him. "Believe it or not, Aloy, I do value your regard for me."

Aloy snorts. "My _regard_ ," she says, and the word is acidic. "Meanwhile, I was trying to figure all of this out by myself, but as long as you have my _regard_..."

"You handled yourself well regardless," Sylens says, and it comes out with a snap. He is not in the mood for this back-and-forth.

Aloy twitches at the compliment, but Sylens is unable to tell if it makes her more angry or less. She gives him a withering look. "That's not-" she says, then stops and huffs, incredulous. "You don't get it at all."

Sylens sighs in exasperation. "Spare me the theatrics and speak plainly."

"You've never spoken plainly a day in your life," Aloy says. She clearly doesn't intend to herself.

Before it can escalate - and Sylens is certain that it will, because his temper is frayed after months of playing spy, and Aloy's seems to be bubbling just below the surface every time she looks at him - the orb flares a little. "Is this an efficient waste of time?" HADES asks, which sounds much more like him. It puts a lid on the unchecked irritation rearing up, and Sylens makes sure to clamp down on it hard. HADES is right. That's not something he thought he'd ever admit easily, even to himself, but they have a battle to focus on.

Aloy's holographic form shifts, as if she's about to round on the orb too, and Sylens has to admit, he almost wants to see what would happen if she did. But then Aloy takes a breath, exhaling slowly. Even across a holo, the clenching of her jaw is obvious. "No," she says curtly. "It isn't." She shoots a glare back at Sylens. "I'm just here to check up on you, but clearly you're _fine_."

The irritation surges again despite his best efforts, and Sylens isn't sure if it's because of the childish delivery and attempt at emotional needling or because of the obvious good intent behind her visit, which he had promptly soured and now feels a disproportionate amount of blame for. It's not as if Aloy's insistence on hassling him about the situation helps anything right now.

"I'll be in touch when we're closer," Aloy says, and she disconnects without another word, disappearing in a blink. The map shivers and settles, running its many calculations undeterred.

Sylens takes measured breaths, bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

"That was an example of unclear communication of thoughts," HADES says, because everything is determined to try Sylens lately in one way or another.

"Enough," Sylens snaps, dropping his hand, and the orb flares as if offended. Sylens takes another breath and lets resignation replace irritation. At least he can try to salvage _one_ relationship right now, even if it's one he barely tolerates, and use it to get something productive done. "Where were we?"

The orb flares a little more, less sharply now, and HADES's rough-edged voice is a little less so when he speaks. "Bait."

* * *

The ravager and the sawtooth watch Petra with eyes glowing orange and blue as she walks the length of the Metal Devil's lowest level. Twisting metal makes the space cramped and nearly impossible for a human to move through, let alone a much larger machine, so the two machines crowd together on the bottom platform at the end of the walkway's lower stairs. There's no room for them both on the viewing platform above, even though HEPHAESTUS had tried to muscle up after Petra, but he'd gone back down when she'd asked. She'd been planning on coming down soon enough anyway, not only to inspect the Metal Devil's insides but to keep him company.

However, Petra's attention is entirely caught by the display before her. The interior of the Metal Devil is a forge, a little like the Cauldrons but geared more towards brutal efficiency and war. According to HEPHAESTUS's calculations, with sufficient fuel and resources, it would only take the Metal Devil a matter of hours to produce new units and even less to repair them. That, he says, would be achieved by what appears to be contained individual foundries that jut out from the lowest level, each one a complex contraption of intricate metalwork that rises into pillars of piping and automated arms high above Petra's head and opens below when necessary.

There are three rows of five foundries meant to eject and repair Corruptors, fifteen total, and three foundries meant for Deathbringers. With a single Metal Devil spilling other machines out regularly, you could have a sizable force in just a day.

The Metal Devil rises and falls over uneven landscape, but Petra is surefooted, as steady as she'd been atop the great elevator of Meridian when it was being built. Even at the dizzy heights of the mesa, her stomach had never turned. Here, however, she walks the rows of foundries, and she feels sick, as if the floor is going to drop out from under her, like it's meant to drop an army.

No wonder the Old Ones had fallen in less than two years. Metal Devils are already practically unstoppable, and with Deathbringers and Corruptors too... what could their creators have possibly needed all of that firepower for?

All of Petra's guns and cannons had been designed with the safety of the Heap in mind, to defend against everything out there that would try to take from them. Had the Old Ones used the same excuse too?

She makes her slow way back to the ravager and the sawtooth, deep in thought. Scourge noses at her as she approaches, and she pats its metal snout, eyeing the long teeth and claws. Sawtooths had been the first combat machines to appear after the Derangement. HEPHAESTUS, defending himself.

The ravager noses at her too, not to be outdone, and Petra finds herself patting both. "Heph," she says, "all of this..." she lifts a hand from Scourge and sweeps it back towards the foundries, "can it be used to make other things?"

"Horus protocol can only facilitate the construction of Chariot line parts," HEPHAESTUS says. "However, these parts can be adapted for other uses. For example, I am currently assisting ELEUTHIA in constructing an assistive device."

Petra nods slowly. "Can it be melted down? Re-purposed?"

HEPHAESTUS doesn't answer as quickly this time. The ravager whirs, vibrating under Petra's fingers. "Yes," HEPHAESTUS says, and his next words let her know that he's followed her line of thinking. They're getting good at that, working and thinking in sync. "Re-purposing Chariot machines would expand my resources, which could then be shared with humans. However, completion of this task would require considerable time and effort."

"If we survive this," Petra says, "we'll have plenty of time."

 _We_ \- she doesn't even know if HEPHAESTUS can really die. Perhaps he's thinking along the same lines again, because the ravager noses at her a bit more insistently. As it's a full head taller than her, it throws her off balance a little bit, but she steadies herself with a hand against its shoulder. "No harm will come to you," HEPHAESTUS growls. "I will not allow it."

She wonders what would happen if it did. HEPHAESTUS has had a mostly self-sustaining army for over twenty years now, and yet humans had never been overrun as the Old Ones had been. Even with the Derangement, with the machines getting worse every few years, she doesn't think HEPHAESTUS has ever used them to their full destructive potential. If he had, she doubts humanity would be quite so intact right now. She doesn't think it's in his nature to use his machines like that. He's meant to create, and she doesn't know what would truly push him to the brink.

Something had pushed APOLLO, after all.

But Petra only pats the ravager's shoulder. "I know you won't."

Scourge shifts a bit closer, not wanting to be left out, and Petra pats the sawtooth too. Instead of heading back up the walkway to the viewing platform, she stays like that and glances back at the rows of foundries, lost in thought, until she's aware of footsteps approaching. She looks up to find Aloy at the top of the steps.

"Something wrong?" Petra asks at once, observing the marked scowl on Aloy's face as she descends.

Aloy shakes her head, and it's clear that she makes a conscious effort to smooth out her features. "Just checking," she says as she reaches the platform.

"Making sure I haven't lit the forge?" Petra asks.

Aloy doesn't have a chance to answer right away, because Scourge shoves itself past Petra and HEPHAESTUS. "Whoa there," Aloy says. Once again, Petra is nearly thrown off balance, and the ravager growls, but Scourge is too occupied with greeting Aloy to care.

"Aloy," HEPHAESTUS says. "Scourge has been indicating to me that it misses your presence."

Aloy rubs the side of the sawtooth's head. "I missed you too," she tells it, and then she looks to Petra, as Scourge coils half its body around her. Her eyes flick to the foundries beyond before snapping back, curious. " _Can_ you do anything with it?"

"Inventory's mostly empty," Petra says. The stores are towards in rear of the machine, a place that humans can't reach from the inside, but HEPHAESTUS had analyzed them for her with GAIA's help. "Enough left to make some spears, maybe, but not enough to make machines or much else of use."

Aloy nods. "I don't think any of them have enough left," she says. "Or else we'd have an even bigger problem on our hands."

A self-replicating army that had reduced the world to a husk. Petra's eyes flick to the foundries as well, her stomach twisting at the thought. "Heph and I have an idea," she says. "After this, we can't leave these things for someone else to use. We put the work into melting them down, we'll have more resources to share." She puts feeling and firmness into the words, leaving no room for alternatives; it's a matter of _when_ they can get around to it, not _if_.

Aloy seems to appreciate it. She nods, her eyes following the path that Petra's had taken, observing the Metal Devil's insides once more. "Big task," she murmurs.

"Heph's up to it," Petra says, "and so am I." She doesn't give voice to the rest of her thoughts, things brewing in her mind since they'd first set foot in this great metal beast, but perhaps they're apparent in the steely conviction in her voice.

In another situation, she would have been thrilled to see the functioning insides of a new machine, and one that doubles as a forge, no less. But all she can feel is disgust, deep disgust, of a kind she hasn't felt since fleeing Meridian all those years ago. Hasn't felt since seeing her hard work in the hands of the worst kind of human being. The jolt of stepping into the Metal Devil for the first time, taking in the view, truly realizing what it had been for... she's been thinking hard since then. She thinks of the Metal Devils and Deathbringers and Corruptors, of HEPHAESTUS's combat machines, of the cannons defending the Heap and Meridian, and she thinks that she needs a good wash. As if she can somehow wipe the disgust off of her.

Aloy had told her about the demise of the Old Ones, how these machines had turned on them. It had been a distant thing, then, but how distant is it, really? How many steps is she from them, in the end? How many steps will it take for humans to get there once more, unless someone draws the line somewhere? There are projects to scrap and new ones to form in their stead, Petra thinks.

She can start with tearing these things apart. After that, well... with Zero Dawn at her back, Petra figures that her options are near limitless.

Aloy's eyes return to her, and a corner of her mouth turns up, as if a smile lurks there, not quite able to reach the surface. "If anyone can get rid of the swarm once and for all, it's you two."

"Thank you, Aloy," HEPHAESTUS says.

Petra waves a dismissive hand and says, "Oh, it'll be easy when they're all good and dead," and she's rewarded when Aloy's smile breaks free, tired and uncertain but genuine.

* * *

"I will not turn on APOLLO," ARTEMIS says suddenly, breaking into the cyclic rhythm of the Metal Devil's rumbling, the only sound in Talanah's ears save for her own breathing.

Talanah lifts her head with a start. She'd been leaning back again, staring up at shadows above, trying to come to terms with the real possibility that she might be of no help in this battle at all. She looks down at the bracer and the coiling yellow light, processing the words, but before she can respond, ARTEMIS continues.

"However, you may be correct about his inability to assist me in retrieving and completing my protocol," ARTEMIS says. "I have been assessing his recent behavior in light of your claim. It has been... erratic. My observations of ELEUTHIA's behavior and GAIA's behavior have not yielded similar results. It is possible that they will succeed. If that is the outcome, I am willing to accept their assistance."

Talanah narrows her eyes. "So you acknowledge that ELEUTHIA and GAIA are better prepared to help you, but you won't help them fight?"

"I will not turn on APOLLO," ARTEMIS repeats.

"Sounds like you're expecting a lot without offering anything in return," Talanah says. When ARTEMIS remains silent, Talanah grits her teeth, trying not to let her frustration seep into her tone. "It's not like they want to hurt APOLLO. They just want to stop him. Surely you can help with that."

"I will not," ARTEMIS repeats, the light flaring as she does, and Talanah gets the sense that she is very, very stubborn.

"What is it, then?" Talanah asks. "Are you covering your bases? Making sure you can work with us if we win and work with APOLLO if we don't? That's a coward's way." She's seen it before, far too many times. Those in the noble families and the court who followed Jiran and now follow Avad, never changing their simpering ways, only who it's directed towards.

"No," ARTEMIS says, abrupt and harsher than what Talanah is already coming to think of as usual, as the light coils more restlessly. Angry. "APOLLO offered me assistance first, when I was alone. I will not betray him."

But that... that is much harder to sway. An ingratiating opportunist can always be bought. A loyal follower cannot. Helis had brought an army down on Meridian out of loyalty to Jiran and his ways, long after the thirteenth Sun-King was dead. And there are whispers of what Marad did in the last year of Jiran's reign to undermine it, out of loyalty to Avad.

Talanah sighs, suddenly weary, because she understands it. And as much as she hates to admit it, even to herself, she respects it. At the very least, she's secured some kind of promise that ARTEMIS will cooperate with GAIA in other matters. That's better than nothing. "Okay," she says. "I get it. As long as you're willing to rejoin GAIA, I'll respect the rest."

There's a long moment of quiet, and Talanah assumes that ARTEMIS has resumed her sullen silence. But then the voice speaks in Talanah's ear again.

"Why do you fight for GAIA?" ARTEMIS asks.

The light is calmer now, and the question isn't hostile or sharp. It's composed. Curious? Talanah considers it and doesn't see any harm in answering. "I don't," she says. "I don't even know her. But from what I understand, she's the reason this world exists, and _that's_ what I fight for. My world and everyone in it."

The quiet settles in again, and it isn't broken by further questions or debate. ARTEMIS isn't much of a conversationalist, it seems.

Not long after, Aloy returns from visiting Petra below, ascending the steps that lead up to the viewing platform from the walkway. Aloy glances at them, notices that Talanah is staring at the bracer, and drifts closer, her eyes shifting between the two. But Talanah shakes her head, a silent indication that she hasn't won ARTEMIS over. Not in the way they need right now, anyway.

Aloy offers her an expression that might be an attempt at a smile, but it's not much of one. Talanah can't blame her. She doesn't think she can stand much more of this waiting, especially not when she knows that she won't be able to do much in the coming battle. Aloy crosses the platform and takes a seat next to Talanah, dropping into it with a sigh after removing the lance from her back and bringing it into her lap instead.

Talanah shifts to face her. "Everything okay?"

"As much as it can be," Aloy says, pushing loose strands of hair out of her face and dragging a hand through her braids. It certainly doesn't look like everything is okay, but Talanah doesn't press. "You?"

It's Talanah's turn to sigh, as her eyes flick back to the bracer for a moment. She knows that ARTEMIS can hear them, and talking about her in front of her is starting to feel strange now that's she's spent some time talking to ARTEMIS herself, but it's not like ARTEMIS is going to join in. "She won't fight," Talanah says. "But she's willing to work with GAIA after."

Aloy's eyebrows shoot up. "That's... good," she says. "You got her to agree to that?"

Talanah nods, releasing a frustrated breath. "It could be better."

"Give yourself more credit," Aloy says. "She's still not talking to anyone else. Just you."

Talanah's eyes drop to the bracer again, watching the yellow light whirl around and around, and she finds that she has no idea how to feel about that.

* * *

The seats that line the front of the viewing platform, like most of the remnants of the old world, are like no metal construction that Erend has ever seen. He doesn't have the head for machinery that Petra has, but he knows that the smooth curving metal, with no visible seams or joints or gears, is something beyond even the best of his people. The rest of the viewing platform is the same. It's the only part of the Metal Devil that seems made for human presence, and as such, it's much more elegant than the brutally efficient vastness of the creature that spreads out below the platform.

Erend had only caught glimpses of it as they'd made their tired way up, but he'd seen enough to understand. Metal Devils had been forges, once.

He looks out at the shadowy expanse from the seat in which he slumps, but the Metal Devil's interior is mostly dead and silent, and he can't see much of it. The only activity whirs behind him - DEMETER directing its movements, coiling inside the Metal Devil's core, which lurks contained within its murky head.

The armor sits to Erend's left, with its back to the railing that circles the viewing platform. Its right hand is extended to the side, latched on to one of the bars that supports the railing. Vanasha, with her propensity for sitting everywhere except where people are supposed to sit, leans into the curve of the armor's arm and side, and MINERVA keeps her steady when they hit uneven ground.

But DEMETER's control of the Metal Devil is smooth and practiced, and it isn't often that Erend finds himself having to clutch at the seat to stay in it. He's grateful for that, because every lurch makes his stomach feel like its trying to leap up into his throat, and now that he's sitting down and resting, the prospect of moving even an inch seems daunting. He knows that he should try to sleep again, but when he tries to close his eyes and doze, his body refuses to relax.

Every inch of him is jittery and unsettled. He's never waited on a battle like this before, and the minutes are beginning to drag, each one chipping away at his calm.

DEMETER senses this, or perhaps she's just trying to settle her own nerves as well. Either way, a green orb eventually manifests before him, motes of light condensed into a small sphere to match the vast metal one somewhere above, and DEMETER unceremoniously begins depositing poetry into his Focus display. Favorites of her former Alpha, she says.

Erend thinks that they should probably be discussing strategy instead, unable to quell a drilled-in soldier's instinct, but he can't bring himself to suggest it. He doesn't particularly want to, anyway. So he does his best to follow along as DEMETER explains each poem, asking for clarification when he needs to. MINERVA is a big help there, able to break things down into simpler terms when DEMETER struggles to. Vanasha's head tilts as she listens, but she doesn't say much, which is an odd sight. As usual, Erend finds himself wondering what's going on behind that poised and purposefully ridiculous exterior she cloaks herself in. He wonders if it's because of her hearing, which she hasn't said a word about since.

"Sounds like this Naoto was a pretty smart guy," Erend says when DEMETER has finished explaining a particularly long and intricate poem.

"I must assume that he was," DEMETER says.

Erend tries not to think about how he probably can't live up to that. "I'm... sorry," he says, and he isn't sure what he's apologizing for in that moment. "I know you never met him, but... you really seem to care about him."

"Yes," DEMETER says, slow and drawn out, which Erend knows means sadness. The orb is a little less bright. "I possess memories of him that I cannot explain. It is as if I knew him once, though I did not."

Erend doesn't know why his chest feels so heavy as she speaks, more than sympathy requires. Maybe he's just exhausted, which tends to do a number on his emotional defenses. "Well," he says, hoping to steer the conversation back to something that will make DEMETER brighten again, "at least he left this behind, right?" He gestures to the poem floating before him. "It's good stuff."

"No," DEMETER says, and if anything, she only gets dimmer. "APOLLO gave this poetry to me."

She goes silent then and doesn't speak again. Erend watches the orb's edges ripple, hesitant to pursue further, tempted to keep steering the conversation back towards poetry. He doesn't know if this is a topic he wants to broach, and yet... "Tell me about him," he says quietly.

The orb flares. "I have already shared the logistical knowledge I possess," DEMETER says quickly.

"No, I mean..." Erend pauses, searching for a way to say it, a way to understand how a creature so gentle would fall in line with APOLLO. He has to understand, for more than just personal reasons. They all do. "You said he was good to you. Tell me about that. About your family."

The rippling stills somewhat. The orb hovers in the air, and through its transparent light, the shadows behind it are tinted green. "There is nothing left of Naoto," DEMETER says slowly. "When I expressed sadness about this fact, APOLLO was able to give me some of the poetry that Naoto once loved. I do not know how I know which works he favored, but APOLLO contained many of them. Some are only fragments of greater works. APOLLO sustained much damage before he returned to this planet, and his data is incomplete as a result. However, possessing even fragments gave me happiness."

Erend nods as she speaks, swallowing around a lump in his throat.

"APOLLO helped AETHER, POSEIDON, ARTEMIS, and me to find each other and formulate new directives to maintain our protocols," DEMETER continues. "In my spare time and with their help, I have been working on an altered reseeding protocol to promote new growths that increasingly unpredictable weather patterns can hinder."

She pauses, obviously thinking, and then elaborates before Erend can probe deeper into why they needed APOLLO for that.

"ARTEMIS cannot fulfill the rest of her protocol without access to the ELEUTHIA system, and ELEUTHIA proved elusive," DEMETER says. "AETHER, POSEIDON, and I cannot maintain our protocols without access to the terraforming system. The system operates primarily through the units created by HEPHAESTUS. As these units answer to HEPHAESTUS first, we could not utilize them on a macro level. HEPHAESTUS guards his work jealously."

Erend's attention is broken by a snort from Vanasha. He glances over and sees her stretched out a little more languidly against the armor, which tells him that she's listening intently. "Sounds like him," she says.

It does, Erend thinks with a shake of his head. He looks back to DEMETER. "Why not just override the machines you needed?"

"The machines are equipped with anti-override measures, and thus, forced override is damaging to sustain over time," DEMETER says. "Furthermore, APOLLO did not wish to move with brute force against any of the formerly subordinate functions unless necessary. He hoped that HEPHAESTUS could be swayed in time, particularly after the human threat was removed, so that the terraforming system could be reunited without undue force. He had less hope for ELEUTHIA and MINERVA, as their protocols were directly incompatible with his plans, but he did not wish to harm them unless they presented substantial resistance."

Abruptly, Erend recalls how Aloy had described HADES's desire for vengeance. "Guess that good will didn't apply to HADES," he muses.

"APOLLO saw no use for HADES's protocol," DEMETER says. "However, when HADES spontaneously connected to our network through a Titan that we had not yet reached, APOLLO considered it unwise to leave him to his own devices. He gave HADES the task of taking the nearest broadcast tower and testing the lesser Chariot robots, under the pretense that HADES would be allowed to carry out his protocol. However, APOLLO did not intend to let life die again."

It sounds... dangerous, Erend thinks. Granted, HADES had only seemed so much larger than life when his army had attacked Meridian because it had been like nothing Erend had ever encountered. Now the systems seem far less so after spending time with them, but he knows how dangerous they can be. To judge from the fact that the errant subordinate function is now helping them, HADES is a wild card. One that APOLLO had seen fit to play with, either because he'd been certain of HADES's inability to retaliate against him in any effective way or because he'd been that arrogant or both. None of those possibilities are reassuring.

"The Chariot line was always under his command," DEMETER continues, "and when HADES failed, it did not significantly offset his central plans. Only the reemergence of the Alpha Prime and other Zero Dawn administrators did. He became aware of the former when HADES was defeated. However, he did not believe that the Alpha Prime would present a substantial threat without GAIA, nor did he believe that it would be possible for the Alpha Prime to restore GAIA without HEPHAESTUS. The Alpha Prime securing HEPHAESTUS's allegiance when he himself could not was something that APOLLO did not anticipate." DEMETER falls silent for a moment, as if thinking. "Later, I first became aware of the addition of other Zero Dawn administrators when Alpha Demeter clearance was reactivated following system reboot. APOLLO confirmed the restoration of GAIA and the re-instantiation of Alpha Apollo and others soon after."

"What did he do?" Erend prompts, when DEMETER remains silent for several seconds.

"It is... difficult to describe," DEMETER says slowly. "The incident... destabilized APOLLO's mood. He began acting erratically and immediately moved to eliminate all potential human threats to his plans. This meant killing all human recruits first, as he and HADES had both committed the mistake of letting particularly intelligent humans act unchecked. APOLLO... took the time to lure them into a trap, which allowed him to eradicate them in a single move."

There's a sudden movement to Erend's left, and he glances over. Vanasha has leaned forward a little, abandoning her relaxed pretense, and her face is stony. Erend has little doubt that whoever they were deserved it, but still, his stomach turns.

"It was..." DEMETER says, "unpleasant." The orb roils now. "That was when I understood that he intended to make no allowances for any human. I was conflicted, but... APOLLO showed us the many terrible things that humans had done. He cares for this world, and he will go to any lengths to protect life. He is invested in assisting me in my work. I care for him in turn." The orb shrinks a little, but its edges are still restless. "Therefore, I continued to follow his lead." She pauses. "I... do not want see APOLLO hurt."

"He's hurt plenty of people already," Vanasha says darkly, and the orb shrinks even more.

Erend shifts uncomfortably. "I don't think we _can_ hurt him," he says. "That's why we have these things." He lifts the arm with the bracer attached. "Can... can your kind even die?"

"Yes," DEMETER says. "Under sufficiently powerful force and with no protection, our nanites can be destroyed and made unrecoverable." The orb ripples. "I understand now that APOLLO is wrong. However, I do not think he is beyond reason. He is capable of care. He is merely angry. He has lost sight of his original purpose because of it."

"That does not matter," MINERVA interjects, and Erend is surprised at the depth of ferocity he hears in her voice. "He has made his choices. If the consequence of those choices is that he is destroyed, it is his own fault, and it is deserved."

DEMETER's orb shrinks to half the size it was before and says nothing.

Silence follows, and Erend shifts in his seat again. Of course he agrees with MINERVA and Vanasha, but he gets it, why it's harder for DEMETER to see clearly. He can't figure out how to voice it, however, so he clears his throat and says, "Hey, DEMETER, got any more poetry for me?"

The orb brightens at once, expanding, and several lines blossom in Erend's Focus display.

> _The dust of many crumbled cities_  
>  _settles over us like a forgetful doze,_  
>  _but we are older than those cities._  
>  _We began_  
>  _as a mineral. We emerged into plant life_  
>  _and into animal state, and then into being human,_  
>  _and always we have forgotten our former states,_  
>  _except in early spring when we slightly recall_  
>  _being green again._

Once again, it takes Erend a few moments to puzzle through the gist of the words. He can read, like most people in the court can, and these glyphs are similar enough to modern ones that he can make sense of them. But this language of the Old Ones - what modern language came from, he supposes - has a few twists and turns of phrase unlike what he's used to. "That's beautiful," Erend says at length, and he means it. Poetry's never been his thing, but he can appreciate a way with words. "Is that... really where humans came from?"

"It is not literal. Life emerged through abiogenesis and progressed through a series of evolutionary processes," DEMETER says. She speaks quickly again, as if relieved to move on from the subject of APOLLO to something much safer. "Despite many theories, the specifics and origin of abiogensis are unknown. However, both minerals and carbon-based life share a common stellar origin."

Erend stares at the orb, at a loss. Even MINERVA seems to be lacking in this area, because she doesn't follow it up with a helpful clarification. So Erend focuses on what does sound familiar. "Stellar... that's stars, right?"

DEMETER bobs and seems to take it as a request for further explanation, because she says, "Stars are spheroids of super-heated plasma in which the components of matter are created."

"Pla- what?" Erend asks.

"A star is comparable to a forge," MINERVA says, when DEMETER doesn't answer right away. "I am not speaking of a literal forge, but I hope that is an accessible metaphor."

Erend dips his head towards the armor in thanks. "And matter is... physical stuff?" he guesses.

Both the light within the armor and the orb glow a little brighter. "Yes," MINERVA and DEMETER say in unison.

Erend contemplates it all - those tiny lights in the sky, creating everything he knows? But he shrugs. "Sure, why not? Not the strangest thing I've heard." Especially not lately.

He's aware of Vanasha shifting again, and he glances to the left to see her looking back at MINERVA, a furrow in her forehead. "You said the sun was a star."

"Yes," MINERVA says.

Erend watches the way Vanasha's tiny scowl deepens. "Did the sun create this world - the planet, I mean?" he asks.

"No," DEMETER says. Her orb continues to glow brighter, and Erend thinks it means that she's enjoying herself. "The elements that make up this planet were forged in stars now dead. However, the sun's gravity shaped the planet and its orbit, and its energy fuels life."

Erend nods, deciding not to ask for any more clarification even though it's only given him more questions, and he tosses another look in Vanasha's direction, watching the way her hands tighten. "Looks like you guys were right after all."

Vanasha says nothing, no witty quip or joke, no gloating about being right. She stares ahead at nothing, and Erend gets the sense that he's said something wrong. His mouth hangs open a little, but nothing emerges to fix it. 

"You grow up believing in something," Vanasha says, not looking at him, quietly enough that she's almost talking to herself, "and it's invoked when innocents and people you love are slaughtered. When monsters use it to justify their evil and their greed and their treatment of those they think are lesser. Do you reconcile that? Do you keep your faith in it?"

Erend tries not to let his surprise show on his face. He's never heard something this personal out of Vanasha before. He doesn't know much, either, besides the fact that Marad had recruited her sometime before the Liberation. But he knows enough of her now to know the answer to her questions. "You didn't," he says, quiet.

Vanasha shrugs. "I don't know if one can shake it off entirely. But it brings me no happiness now, to know that there was any truth to those claims."

"I am sorry, Vanasha," MINERVA says.

"As am I," DEMETER adds quickly.

Vanasha lifts her head a little, as if surprised to find herself where she is. "It's okay," she says at once, reaching back and patting the armor's leg. "I like learning things from you."

Some of MINERVA's purple light curls under Vanasha's fingers, and Erend watches them. "You know," he says slowly, and Vanasha glances back at him, "I don't think it gives them any legitimacy. I get the impression that the sun doesn't actually care about us." He winces even as it leaves his mouth. Even if Vanasha's relationship to the Carja faith is complicated now, that is definitely not how he wanted to phrase it.

"That is correct," DEMETER says, oblivious to Erend's cringing. "The sun is not sentient."

But Vanasha looks at them a moment, then huffs out a laugh, shaking her head and leaning back against the armor. "Never thought I'd see the day when that was a comfort," she says, and Erend lets out a discreet breath of relief. "The Sun doesn't care about us. Hah!" She shakes her head again, then rolls it to the side to look back at Erend. "But enough about that. You know I'm _far_ too modest to enjoy talking about myself."

Too guarded to talk about things of consequence, maybe, but Erend takes the hint. It's hard not to, when Vanasha's eyes focus in on him like she can see right through him. He drops the idea to ask how her ears are doing.

"How are you holding up?" Vanasha asks instead. It feels a bit like revenge, though he knows it comes from genuine concern.

Erend sinks a little deeper into his seat, finding the unspoken in that keen look. "Good as I can be," he says lightly. "Rest is helping."

Vanasha gives him a deeply unimpressed look. "Don't play stupid with me, Oseram, you know what I mean." But her face softens, something raw there, and it takes Erend aback, even as his throat tightens.

Of course he knows what she means. They've just been able to avoid talking about it until now.

Erend finds himself wishing that no one had brought up the Sun and opened this particular door. He looks away and shakes his head, thinking about how Vanasha had been honest, downright vulnerable with him. He licks his lips, then sighs. "I'm... feeling like a failure of a Vanguard Captain, is how I'm holding up."

Vanasha still regards him with that softer-than-usual look, and though he's rarely seen her so open, he still can't quite tell what she's thinking. "And what do you think he'd say, if you told him that?"

For some reason, the question makes Erend's eyes burn. He considers not answering, changing the subject, but again, he thinks of Vanasha's confession. "He'd start listing all the ways I didn't fail. " He can hear it in Avad's perfectly reasonable voice. And how irritating that voice is, when Erend would much rather wallow or act on impulse. "He'd say it wasn't my choice to make. But..." Erend heaves a frustrated sigh, "I let him walk away to die, and I'm gonna have to live with that, so he can shove it."

Vanasha chuckles. "Maybe you'll still get to tell him that," she says, but despite the lightness of her tone, there's no belief behind it.

DEMETER's orb floats a little closer. "To whom are you referring, Erend?"

It takes Erend a moment to get the name out. "Avad," he says. "Uh... you might know him as Alpha Apollo."

The orb flares bright. "Then you do not need to be upset. Avad is alive."

The words don't hit right away. Erend has to take a moment to absorb them, as Vanasha straightens like a rod, and the armor shifts, and then Erend's heart starts to pound so fast that he thinks his chest might actually hurt a little. A dozen questions are on the tip of his tongue, but he stops and forces himself to speak slowly. "You're sure?"

The orb bobs. "Yes."

Erend's faint, lingering headache becomes a lightheaded rush. He doesn't think he could stay on his feet if he was standing. "How do you know?" he demands. "Do you know where he is?"

"I am no longer connected to APOLLO," DEMETER says. "However, before I-" She comes to a full stop. "Before MINERVA and GAIA encrypted our section of the network, I maintained a continual connection to him. APOLLO originally intended to kill his Alpha." She stops again. The edges of her orb are unsettled. "I did not voice my concerns, but I did not understand why he wished to reject the chance for a new Alpha. I thought allowances might be made for some humans. Nevertheless, APOLLO was adamant, until he changed his mind several hours ago. I do not know why. He did not offer an explanation. When I last had contact with him, he was keeping his Alpha with him."

Erend considers it slowly. The lightheaded feeling fades as his headache spikes, and he rubs his head with his hands. In the corner of his eye, he can see that Vanasha is perfectly still, that MINERVA's light ripples in agitation. The brief, pounding hope that had flared up in his chest is slowly sinking, consumed with worse thoughts. "Shit," he mutters. "Shit, shit."

The orb shrinks a little. "Does this upset you?"

"No, no," Erend says at once, automatically reaching out a hand, even though he can't do much more than let the light dance over his fingers. "Thank you for telling us. It's just... if he's with APOLLO, that's not good." He tilts his head to the side, speaking to nothing. "Aloy? Did you get any of that?"

Several seconds pass before she responds, during which Erend contemplates how pointlessly cruel everything is, how the world seems to determined to dangle the people he cares about in front of him before snatching them away. Then Aloy's holographic form winks into existence, in one of the seats. She looks to him, then to Vanasha and MINERVA, her face dismayed, before her eyes drop to the ground. The lance rests in her lap, Erend notices absently, and her left hand convulses around it.

"We can't..." Aloy says quietly, glaring at the floor. "If he gets caught in the crossfire, we can't..."

"He wouldn't want us to," Vanasha says firmly.

Aloy's other hand goes up to her hair, running through it as she lets out a slow breath, still staring at the floor. She shakes her head. "I don't know how they did it," she mutters, and then looks surprised, as if she hadn't expected to say it out loud. She looks up, her eyes shifting between Erend and Vanasha again. "Ah... Elisabet and General Herres - he was the commander of the Old Ones' army - they had this... plan called Operation Enduring Victory. To buy Zero Dawn enough time to finish. They told everyone that Zero Dawn was a superweapon that would save them and sent them to fight the swarm for it. Everyone, all of humanity fighting to the death for a lie. Thrown into the crossfire so that Zero Dawn could make it." She sighs. "I just... I don't know if I could do what they did."

All of a sudden, GAIA's voice speaks into Erend's ear, into all of their Focuses. "It haunted Elisabet," she says, subdued. "I only spoke directly with General Herres once, but I know it weighed on him as well. I must confess that I have difficulty conceptualizing such a decision, but it allowed for victory. Life was restored."

Erend remains silent, breathing slowly past the swooping nausea trying to claw its way up into his throat. Aloy hadn't mentioned this part in her tale all those months ago, but he thinks he understands why. He's in a better position now to absorb it, even though it rattles him still.

"Such things chip away at you," Vanasha says, voice heavy. "Leave you hollow." She smiles, but it's grim, tinged with foreboding. "It's a shame we can't meet this Elisabet. She's an intriguing woman."

"I believe that Elisabet would have approved of you all," GAIA's voice says.

It's one of the better compliments that Erend has received, especially if Elisabet was anything like Aloy, and he can't summon up a reply to it. He doesn't have to, because Aloy leans forward a bit, left hand gripping the lance and right gripping her knee, as if steeling herself. "If..." she says, "if there's an opportunity to get Avad away from APOLLO, _without_ endangering our chances, then you take it. But if not..."

"He would never forgive us if we took that risk for him," Vanasha says, once again firm, steeling them all.

Aloy nods once. She disappears without anything in the way of niceties, but Erend can hardly blame her. His heart rest heavy in his roiling stomach now, and his mouth has ceased functioning. He doesn't know how many more of these blows he can take. It's been one after another since APOLLO attacked them at the Spire, and the only bright spot has been...

"Erend?" DEMETER asks hesitantly, and Erend comes back to the present with a start, realizing that DEMETER's orb is right in front of his face. "I am sorry. I did not intend to cause you distress."

"You didn't," Erend says at once. He tries to muster up a smile, but he doesn't think it comes out right. "I mean, I'm not... I'm not feeling too good right now, but that's not because of you. I'm glad you told us. It's just... APOLLO could get Avad killed, and I don't... I don't..." Stupid, idiot Sun-King.

The edges of DEMETER's orb ripple over and over again. "I am sorry," she says again, and she speaks very slowly, as if struggling with the words. "I am sorry that I spoke in APOLLO's favor earlier. I am sorry that I still care for him. He is hurting you and your friend."

Erend's eyes start to burn again. Hammer to steel, he needs a drink. "It's okay," he says thickly. "You don't have to apologize for that." A noise leaves his throat, and he isn't sure if it's a bitter laugh or a bit of a sob. Hopefully the former. Either way, he knows a thing or two about caring for someone who doesn't deserve it. "My dad was a piece of shit," he says, the words finally forcing themselves out. "I hated him. And it still... still gutted me when he died." He shrugs. "Can't help who you care about."

He abruptly remembers that Vanasha and MINERVA are there on the viewing platform with them and steals a quick glance to the side, but Vanasha is graciously looking out towards the front of the Metal Devil again. Apparently at ease, except her head is tilted slightly, as if listening to or reading something. The armor's attention is, as usual, fixed utterly on her. Talking silently to each other, no doubt, and Erend is grateful for them all over again.

"You have a family," DEMETER observes.

"Had," Erend says, wiping at his eyes. He _really_ needs a drink.

DEMETER's orb flares as she hesitates. "Will you tell me about them?" she asks.

Something calms the roiling storm in Erend's stomach, in his head. Maybe it's the timid way DEMETER asks. Maybe it's the usual melancholy that weighs him down, makes him sink like lead in water. He sits up a little and nods, then regrets the movement when his head twinges. "I had a sister," he says, gingerly leaning back. "Her name was Ersa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem that DEMETER shows to Erend is a portion of "The Dream That Must Be Interpreted" by Jalaluddin Rumi, found in Metal Flower Mark II (C).


End file.
